The Chaos Mark
by Sleepwalker48
Summary: As Pit wonders about his past and Dark Pit is dealing with being Viridi's new captain, a new disease starts to lay victim to the gods and begins to interrupt the peace that everyone had once known, and it's up to the angels to find the cure. -Full Summary Inside- [Romance/Drama/Angst/Adventure]
1. Wishful Thinking

**Full Summary: Down on earth, something old and evil is beginning to awaken. Viridi notices it, Palutena notices it, and as whole forests are being burned down by the renewed Pyrrhon/Aurrum threat, the goddesses go and send the angels to investigate. All the while, Pit is wondering about his past and Dark Pit is dealing with being Viridi's new captain, and a new disease stemmed from the Chaos Kin starts to lay victim to the gods. It's a race against time as** **the angels learn about trust and faith, with lives at stake and the threat of a new enemy ever at bay.**

 **Warning: This story will start off where everyone is pretty happy and hunky-dory, but it's not going to stay that way! Also, this story has a TON of OCs to come to play, but I'd LIKE to think that they are well-developed and that they each play an important PART in the story.**

 **But, of course, YOU be the judge.**

* * *

 **Now, for a Kid Icarus, Quote-O'-The-Day!**

" _ **My wish would be to fly by myself!"—Pit, in The Wish Seed**_

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

There were several things Pit enjoyed most about this world.

Definitely one of the biggest ones, Pit decided one night, was gazing at the sky when it was dotted over with little lights as it was now. The thought of there being other lights out there, spreading over millions and millions of galaxies and probably holding a tiny world like the one he looked from right then still struck him with awe. And to travel through those galaxies every single day! It was like the adventure he had never had!

 _Not that I haven't been on any adventures,_ Pit thought, smiling. He clasped his hands underneath his head, sighing with content as a gentle spring breeze passed through the level roof of the dormitory. It was calm, peaceful nights like these that made him look like a completely different person to any outside viewer. _But crusading through space and haggling for stars while manning your own space pirate ship would be amazing!_ He paused, hoping that Palutena was perusing through his thoughts again without him knowing. She would've never approved of his daring wishes, he thought. He could safely say that of all of their adventures together, the quest for the Great Sacred Treasure was perhaps his favorite.

Pit had a lot of favorite things.

Suddenly, a shooting star caught his eye. Pit gasped. The thing was _huge;_ crossing through the night sky with a tail of flame that over shadowed all of the other stagnant lights.

 _That's a star that can't be wasted!_ Pit thought eagerly. _I had better make a wish._

You could probably guess what he wished for.

 _I wish I could fly, I wish I could fly!_ Thinking it twice was essential to wish making. If you didn't mean it, then it didn't count.

Pit opened his eyes again. A surprise to him, the shooting star still had not left the sky yet. In fact, it seemed to be growing steadily bigger . . . and bigger . . .

The angel continued to watch its progress, sitting up now as the star became clearer. It lit up the sky with its trail, heading towards the earth as if in slow motion. How was this possible? Pit wondered. He had never seen a star this close before.

Finally, the great ball of flame ended its descent, careening past the clouds of Skyworld to hit the defenseless Overworld below.

Pit was wide awake now, pacing the rooftop nervously. It was only a matter of time before Palutena found out about what he had done . . . he hoped the damage wasn't too great . . .

" _Pit?"_ There was Palutena now. " _Pit, come in!"_

"I didn't mean to do it, Lady Palutena!" Pit wailed.

" _. . .what?"_

"The shooting star!" Pit was on the verge of pulling out his own hair; he was so distressed. "I didn't mean to make it fall to the Overworld! I didn't even know stars could _do_ that!"

" _Pit,"_ Lady Palutena said, exasperated, _"You didn't make the star fall from the sky."_

"But I did!" Pit cried. "I must have wished on it wrong!"

" _Pit, what are you saying?"_

"I saw the shooting star, and I made a wish. The next thing you know, it's falling from the sky! I knew humans made wishes on them all the time, and so I thought I'd try it too, but—"

" _Pit, calm down!"_ Palutena exclaimed, able to get a handle on the situation before he started rambling again. Pit went silent. _"You weren't the one who caused that star to fall."_

"I- I wasn't?"

" _No,"_ Palutena said, a trace of laughter in her voice. _"In fact, I'm not even sure if that was a star at all. I wanted to wake you to go and check it out, but it seems to me like you were already up before that had even happened."_

Pit was silent.

" _Pit?"_

"It wasn't me!" Pit exclaimed, fist pumping the air.

" _Yes, you're right,"_ Palutena said, still smiling. _"But there's still a situation to investigate. Get ready as fast as you can so I can meet with you at the weapons altar. I still need to alert Viridi and Dark Pit about what's happened, if they haven't already heard about it already."_

"I'm on it!" Pit scampered down the ladder that led up the roof.

* * *

"Of _course_ I knew about the situation!"

Pit rushed into the Weapons Room, all dressed and ready to go. All he needed now was to choose a weapon . . . as soon as Viridi could be made to stop yelling.

"I mean, what do you take me as, incompetent? Stupid? That meteorite or whatever burned a hole through a forest— I _am_ the Goddess of Nature, you know!"

"Viridi, I wasn't implying that you wouldn't have known—" Palutena tried.

"Of course you didn't!" Viridi fumed. "You just wanted to use Dark Pit to do your work—well, it's not happening!" Pit turned, and saw Dark Pit standing off to the side of her, arms crossed and looking like he was going to fall asleep right where he stood. Pit was amazed. How he could stand Viridi during one of her rants and actually fall asleep was a mystery to him.

"It wasn't like that at all," Palutena said. Pit went to her side. Palutena acknowledged him with a nod. "I was just wondering if we could use your assistance with all of this—it would be very helpful. We both don't know if that thing was a meteorite or what; it could be as dangerous as the Aurum."

Viridi still wasn't budging. She regarded Palutena angrily, "Well—"

"Viridi," Dark Pit said, coming out of his stupor. "Be quiet. It's too late to be yelling the way you are right now; we should just investigate this as soon as possible."

Viridi went silent, begrudgingly so. Pit was surprised again. Even though she looked as if she wanted to punch a wall, or punch Dark Pit for that matter, Viridi gave a terse sigh instead, doing neither.

"Fine."

"I've already got enough information to go on," Palutena informed. She sounded extremely relieved. "It's not from this world, that's for sure, and somehow it's been able to create fire, burning down forests and everything in its wake."

"So much destruction in so little time," Pit said, feeling a little sad. "Has it come to any towns yet?"

"Not yet," Palutena told him. "But it won't be soon before it does."

"So much hype over a few pitiful humans," Viridi said, rolling her eyes.

"Viridi, I called you here for more than one reason," Palutena said, ignoring her last comment. "Did you bring it?"

"Bring what?" Dark Pit asked.

Viridi nodded and stepped towards the goddess, producing from a pocket in her dress a couple of chains of silver. Hanging at their ends were two bulbs of swirling expanse; a grayish green substance that looked neither liquid nor gas.

"These necklaces will make you flame-resistant," Viridi told them. She dropped the two pieces of jewelry in Palutena's hand. "They contain liquid from Arlon's Flages. He made them, actually."

"They'll help you two on your mission," Palutena informed them. She gestured for them to come forward.

Pit approached her first, and Palutena draped the silver thing around his neck. "They have a time limit, especially when you're around extreme heat," Viridi commented. As Palutena got to Dark Pit, she added, "So be careful."

The two angels nodded, but Pit was looking unsure. "Arlon's Flages?" he said, to Viridi. "Does that mean that the longer we wear them, our eyes are going to meld into one and we'll eventually grow knives for hands?"

Dark Pit facepalmed. Viridi deadpanned, "You can't be seriously asking me this."

"I am," Pit said, and Palutena gave an exasperated sigh behind him. "What! I was just curious!"

"Arlon wouldn't make something that would _turn you into a florescent Force of Nature,_ Pit-for-brains," Viridi said narrowly. "Besides, I'd cut off my right foot before I recruit you in _my_ army."

Pit frowned. Dark Pit smacked him on the head.

Before Pit could react or retaliate, though, Palutena let out a great sigh and said, "Another day. You two should go pick your weapons and get ready; we should get to this thing before it does something serious."

* * *

"Nice job, handling Viridi back there."

Pit flew through the night sky with his twin. Though the two were going so fast that that there was no way they would have been able to hear each other speaking the way Pit was, their thoughts were connected telepathically, like the connection that served between the angels and the gods.

"She was getting annoying," Dark Pit said only. His thoughts to him was as familiar to him as his own. "And I was tired. I only wanted to get this mission over and done with so that I could get back to sleep."

Pit figured he was only telling the truth. Dark Pit really did like sleeping.

" _Heads up, boys,"_ Palutena said to them. _"The forest below is the first of the attacks from this alien anomaly."_

" _Everything down there is on fire,"_ Viridi said with a hint of sadness. _"You two need to go down and take out whoever did this!"_

"Viridi sure gets protective of her forests," Pit muttered to Dark Pit.

Dark Pit smirked. "You got that right."

The two started their descent to the earth below. The air was filled with the stench of smoke, billowing into their eyes as they finally landed into a fire-free clearing.

Pit looked on at the sight before him. Fire leaped up at them, licking the tips of leafless trees stripped bare as a result of the destruction.

"Um, Lady Palutena?" Pit asked uncertainly. "Why are we here, again?"

" _To find out what caused the fire,"_ Viridi said, rolling her eyes. " _Duh."_

"I'm pretty sure he asked Palutena, not you," Dark Pit said.

" _Don't you get smart with me_ ," Viridi threatened. " _Remember, I'm the one who keeps you flying each and every day. Just you wait, one day you'll be having the time of your life and then, next thing you know, you'll be falling from the sky like a rock."_

"Oh, don't even pretend like you wouldn't miss me," Dark Pit said. "I'm your favorite captain."

" _My_ only _captain_ —"

" _You guys!"_ Palutena interjected. _"Can we please stay on task!"_

"Sorry," Dark Pit and Viridi said simultaneously.

" _This force is fast. As soon as you go into the forest, you'll need to find it as soon as possible. Confront it, and take it down."_

"Same old, same old," Pit said, taking out his bow and getting it ready. He looked to Dark Pit next to him, a force ready to be dealt with, a pair of claws already in hand.

The angels went in.

* * *

 **A/N: A short chapter, I know. As I continue on, you can expect my chapters to be about 4,000-6,000 words.**

 **I feel like the biggest challenge for me in writing this fiction will be keeping Pit's personality in check. The way he responds to certain situations and interacts with people, as well** **as retaining his** **cute, bright and funny demeanor will be tough, since I usually write about serious characters in my stories.**


	2. Creature in the Dark

" _ **I am Dark Pit, servant to no other than myself!" – Dark Pit, to basically everybody, in the chapter 'the Chaos Vortex'**_

* * *

"Whoa!"

Dark Pit whipped around to see Pit dodge a falling branch that was on fire. Pit looked as terrified as ever, but seeing Dark Pit looking at him in concern made him recover fast, giving him a sheepish smile.

"No worries. These necklaces make us fire-resistant, right?"

"Right, but you aren't invincible," Dark Pit told him, striding up to him to see if he was alright. He was. "If that branch had fallen on you, you would've been knocked unconscious."

"That's true," Pit said, gesturing that they go deeper into the burning forest. The two kept a steady pace forward, jogging in step. "But I'm glad that you're here to keep an eye out for me."

Dark Pit didn't reply.

The two angels could hear more branches breaking off of their trunks, cracking and splitting in the cackle of the flame. Dark Pit couldn't help but notice how jumpy Pit seemed, the way he scanned his surroundings like something was going to leap out at him in any second.

"Pit," he said cautiously, "are you okay?"

Pit stopped jogging, hesitant. Dark Pit could guess why was probably so reluctant in answering. The two hadn't spent much time 'bonding' over the past few months after the War, after the reconstruction of Palutena's Temple and Dark Pit's new position over Viridi's Forces of Nature. Sure, they had seen each other occasionally here and there, but their meetings were so few and far between that it was impossible to really get a true word in.

He was very sure of one thing, though; that after the War, any animosity that had been between them had dissolved. The run-in with the Chaos Kin had built a lot of strength in where he and Pit's friendship stood. He knew Pit didn't have to save his life when the Chaos Kin had come at him, and yet, he had. Likewise, Pit probably knew that it had taken a lot of willpower for Dark Pit to stick around taking orders from Viridi and Palutena to save Pit back at the Rewind Spring.

Dark Pit was, in a sense, content with being there for his lighter counterpart. Not only was it a matter of keeping the angel alive for his sake – for if Pit died, he knew that something tragic would follow afterwards for him as well—but for the sake of his conscience, too. He had tried to murder Pit quite a few times. And though none of them wanted to admit it, Dark Pit was positive that he would've won after a few matches—no questions asked. But he couldn't imagine himself ever taking the other angel's life-if not for the sake of his conscience, then at least for the pure fact that he felt that he was responsible for the guy, as annoying as he was.

Before Pit could open his mouth to reply, however, a sort of moaning noise filled the smoke-filled air.

The boys' heads whipped to the direction of the sound. It had definitely sounded human.

"What was that?" Pit asked to no one in particular. Dark Pit shrugged his shoulders, but Palutena had a suggestion.

" _It might be someone who needs your help,"_ she said. The next thing they knew, a big, green arrow appeared on the ground in front of them. _"It sounded like it was coming from this direction."_

" _Just leave him be,"_ Viridi said with spite. Dark Pit could almost picture her crossing her arms and frowning like the petulant child she could be. _"The filthy human probably deserves it."_

"Viridi, that's not fair," Pit said aloud. "You're only here because of this forest, but saving humans is what Lady Palutena and I do. It's our Sacred Duty! Impressing your opinions about everything we do every second of the day isn't going to change what we've been called to do."

Viridi was silent, and Dark Pit had to give the guy some props. Shocking Viridi into silence, even for a moment, took skill. He would know.

The angels continued in the general direction of the arrow. Eventually the terrain went at a steep incline, bringing them closer and closer to the mountains. The trees along this way weren't even touched by the desolation of the fire; only the heavy smell of smoke filled the air around them. Another arrow appeared, pointing them more towards the left.

" _There's a cave deeper in that mountain pass,"_ Palutena provided _. "I believe that it's coming from over there."_

Dark Pit didn't doubt it. The moaning was much louder now as he and Pit made their way down the untread path. But he wasn't completely sure if the moaning were actually . . . words. He couldn't quite explain it, since sometimes it sounded like cries for help, but other times it seemed like eerie robot talk—inhuman.

"Help . . . help me . . ." the voice called. At last they were close enough to the cave to actually make out words. It was even in sight. "Need help . . . don't want to . . . but I can't . . . resist . . ."

And then came the freaky computer speak.

"Is he spouting . . . numbers?" Pit said, warily.

"Yeah . . ."

It went a little something like this, as the two made their way cautiously into the cave in the mountain; " _01101001 01101110 01110011 01110000 01100101 01100011 01110100. . ."_

Pit paused. "Wait-!"

From the shadows of the cave approached a figure, a burning light like fire itself framing him. As he came closer, Dark Pit could see that it _was_ fire; outlining this tall, well-built figure with long, interlocking yellow and blue tattoos along his body. His eyes were a glowing, neon blue, the same color as the angular tattoo that was on his chest. His grin was loony-bin crazy.

And Dark Pit had no idea who he was.

" _Pyrrhon?!"_ Palutena said in disbelief. _"How are you here?"_

But her question wasn't answered. Closer and closer he came towards them, out of the shadows of the cave. Pit brought out his bow, and Dark Pit did the same, and it was then when Dark Pit finally realized the shocking truth—

Pyrrhon wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Pyrrhon still looks possessed by the Aurum," Pit muttered, speaking to Palutena. "How should I approach him?"

" _I don't know,"_ Palutena said. _"Part of me hopes that we can help in some way. He was calling for help just a minute ago. I don't think that he is fully possessed right now."_

Dark Pit wasn't so sure about her last comment. That grin on his face was manic, and over and over he kept on repeating the same set of numbers over and over and over again: " _01101001 01101110 01110011 01110000 01100101 01100011 01110100 . . ."_

" _Why are you two discussing this?_ " Viridi demanded. " _Aurum Pyrrhon was crazy! We should take him out before he causes anymore destruction—"_

The conversation that Pit and the goddesses were having with each other went over his head; words about aliens and Pyrrhons and Aurums? It didn't make any sense to him. The only thing that he was aware of was the fact that the guy on fire had approached them in full; a mere two feet away from them. That crazy grin was still on his face, but he seemed to be inspecting him and Pit now. Dark Pit closed his eyes. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Dude," Dark Pit said, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, eyes still closed. "Where are your _clothes?_ "

Next thing he knew, Dark Pit was on his back, a good twenty feet from the entrance of the cave. If the tree trunk at his back hadn't stopped him, then he imagined he would've flown farther.

Cringing, he lifted his head, seeing Pit crying out for him in the distance. Behind him, Dark Pit could see Pyrrhon coming towards Pit even closer . . . closer . . . closer . . .

"Pit!" Dark Pit shouted. "Look out!"

Pit whipped around just in time to see Pyrrhon strike out with both arms forward, alit with flame. Pit dodged backwards, and now a new set of numbers were issuing forth from Pyrrhon's lips, more insistent than the numbers from before, _"01100100 01100101 01110011 01110100 01110010 01101111 01111001."_

" _Dark Pit,"_ Viridi asked, _"Are you okay? Can you get up?"_

Dark Pit made move to get up, finding out that he couldn't. The world around him spun dangerously. He shut his eyes. "No, I . . ." He winced. "My head . . ."

" _Don't worry, I'll get you out of there,"_ Viridi said. _"Just give me a second . . ."_

"No!" Dark Pit exclaimed. He jumped on his feet, holding the tree for support. "I can't just leave Pit—"

" _Pit will be fine!"_ Viridi told him. _"He's beaten Pyrrhon before. We need to get you help."_

"He's beaten Pyrrhon . . . even when he's crazy like this?"

" _That's the only time he's beat him,"_ Viridi said carefully. _"Now, I'm not going to have you fight me—you might have a concussion, or something."_

". . . Caught me by surprise . . ."

" _That's okay. Now isn't the time for payback."_

Dark Pit opened his eyes again. The fight going on between Pit and Pyrrhon was intense. Pit kept on using his usual tactics, keeping a safe distance from the enemy when the situation called for it, dodging Pyrrhon's intermittent fire attacks like a pro, and attacking when the chance came.

Dark Pit pushed off the tree trunk, feeling nauseous almost instantly. He looked to the ground, wishing that everything could just keep steady. Viridi kept on talking in his ear, saying something that sounded like chuck . . . wait, no . . . she was telling him to buck . . . or . . . no, why would she tell him to do that? . . . .

"DAMMIT DARK PIT! DUCK!"

Dark Pit fell to the ground in alarm just as a tunnel of fire whipped its way above him. He closed his eyes, intense heat pounding at the back of his neck as well as his clothes.

And for the first time since Dark Pit knew her, he was grateful for Viridi's loud voice.

* * *

Dark Pit sat up immediately, eyes wide.

Complete desolation lay before him. All the trees that had surrounded the immediate area of the mountain cave had been stripped bare, and tendrils of flame still hung to the tallest of branches and on the ground below. Little vegetation remained.

He got to his hands and knees, and threw up. The headache in his head was almost unbearable; he could barely see. He was aware of Viridi shouting in his ear, and Palutena too, crying out insistently. He couldn't make out the words at all. All he wanted them to do right then was to shut up, now, before his head split open and his brains poured out . . .

Until he heard Palutena calling out Pit's name.

Dark Pit's head shot up. Near the entrance of the cave, Pit lay on his back, eyes closed. Unable to rise to his feet just yet, but determined to see if he was alright, he crawled over to where he lay.

Feet away from his body, he was aware of something looming over him from behind.

Dark Pit whipped around. Before him stood a living, steaming, furious looking beast. From what he could make out of Palutena and Viridi's words, the beast was exactly as he had guessed: A dragon.

The dragon stared at him in all of its powerful glory, steam billowing from its gigantic nostrils, making its whiskers move back and forth. Its dark eyes glared at him dangerously. Dark Pit didn't know what to do. He was frozen.

Palutena's words swam through his head first:

" _Dark Pit, you need to get to Pit, now! Get up! You can't take this thing down at the state you're at now! GET UP! GET_ UP _!"_

That last exclamation was exactly the kick in the pants Dark Pit needed. Without another moment's hesitation, Dark Pit dove to where Pit lay, shielding him from the beast with his body. In a fit of rage, the dragon gave out a shrieking cry, a billowing roar that Dark Pit was glad he had escaped from just in time.

He examined Pit, putting his finger to his neck. He was still breathing, but it was very faint. There were terrible scorch marks here and there on his clothes; the skin on his face was peeling and red.

"Pit, hold on," Dark Pit said brokenly, hardly able to look at him in this condition. He felt a beam of light surround them both, the gold warmth of Palutena and the fresh breeze that was Viridi, right as the dragon took another deep breath to torch them right where they lay.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope to give Pit and Dark Pit each equal amount of screentime (or would that be page time?). This is because I like the angels both equally, because this story is about each of them as well as their developing friendship.**

 **Anyway, I found out that the numbers that Aurum Pyrrhon was speaking, both in the Kid Icarus Game and in this fiction, were actually binary numbers. Cool, right? Okay, okay, don't say it-it's probably obvious, but I can be quite slow in figuring these things out, alright? I knew that it was computer speak, but then I found out that the zeroes and ones _weren't_ random-that the numbers Pyrrhon spoke in the game were actually words—well, one word, actually: Kill. The words he says here goes as follows; first 'Inspect', then 'Inspect' again, then finally, 'Destroy'. Two thumbs up for random Kid Icarus Trivia!**


	3. Arrival of the Sea God

" _ **This is the end! I never learned how to REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAD!" –Pit.**_

* * *

Viridi was shaking her head in blank disbelief. "A dragon . . . a dragon . . ."

They had made it out just in time.

Pit and Dark Pit appeared in the Entry Hall of Palutena's Temple. Dark Pit was the only one conscious, but just barely. Palutena was there in an instant, patting Dark Pit's head in concern before taking Pit in her arms gingerly. Before the centurions swarmed around her, he raised his head to check on Pit's wings.

They were okay. Everything was okay.

Dark Pit got up on one knee and tried to get up.

"Oh, no you don't," said Viridi. He turned, and suddenly she was there, taking his arm and putting it around her neck. She propped him up.

Things didn't end up the way they were supposed to. Dark Pit swayed dangerously and she stumbled, coming to rest on her knees. Dark Pit chuckled next to her. Viridi turned to him in surprise.

"You're such a small little thing," he said, looking at her, his hands bracing him up on the ground. "Did you really just try to help me up?"

Viridi glared at him. "I am not weak."

Dark Pit smirked right before passing out on the ground.

More centurions swarmed the two in the middle of the floor, helping the goddess and a half-conscious Dark Pit off the floor. "Mistress Viridi," said one of the sprites, bowing slightly. Viridi turned, watching as a Strongarm lifted Dark Pit in his arms and began to go in the same direction as Palutena.

"Hold it right there," Viridi said abruptly just as the sprite opened his mouth to speak. The Strongarm turned around. "He's coming with me."

The Strongarm hesitated, and the sprite said for him, "But, Mistress Viridi, Lady Palutena has healing treatments that are able to treat Dark Pit –"

"Just as well," Viridi replied, steadfast. "I still want him in my care only. He is my captain, and I shall care for him the way I please."

The sprite bowed to her just as the Strongarm toddled over to her fearfully, laying Dark Pit at her feet. He had never looked so calm, so vulnerable.

Viridi kept her composure, nodding to the centurions that surrounded them. Most of them looked nervous, afraid of her and unsure about Viridi's opposition to Dark Pit remaining in Palutena's care.

"Thank you, centurions," Viridi said, and summoned a beam of light that took her and Dark Pit away at once.

* * *

"Well, _that_ didn't go as planned."

Palutena, Pit and Dark Pit murmured their response.

The two gods and the twin angels were enjoying their time of rest, for the moment, centered around a burning fire pit. The light from the flame lit up the otherwise dark room, casting everything else in a warm, comfortable dimness.

For the past two days, the angels have been taking their share of a break. As it turns out, Viridi took Dark Pit to her Fortress at the Hanging Gardens because she had better methods of healing that she wanted to use to help Dark Pit. Prone to being selfish, the centurions didn't hear about this until Viridi had accidently put access to a mind link with Pit instead of his darker twin. A day later, Pit was recovering much faster from his burns than what could be done for him at the hot springs, and now Viridi was playing hostess for Palutena and the two angels at the Nature Goddess' home itself.

"We were all caught by surprise," Palutena said, stirring her tall drink. She and Viridi lay comfortably on a large divan as the two angels had spread out on the floor, napping occasionally and talking every so often. Right now, they happened to be playing cards. "I had thought dragons were extinct."

"Me too," Viridi said, propping her legs up on the ottoman in front of her. "I haven't seen one in years."

"Same here," piped in Pit, turning around to look at her. "And the dragon I'd seen lived in the mountains, not in some forest."

"Which was still technically in a mountain cave," Dark Pit commented, "if you want to be technical."

"We don't," Viridi said blandly. "So shut up." Dark Pit rolled his eyes.

"Still, it was pretty convenient that Pyrrhon had made his base near a dragon's cave," Pit said, rubbing at a large burn mark along his upper arm.

"Convenient, or just painful?" Dark Pit asked pointedly.

"Either way, this situation alerted us to be more careful when it comes to Pyrrhon in the future," Palutena observed. "Now we know that Pyrrhon means business."

"Sure, Pyrrhon is big news, but should we assume that he has something planned?" Dark Pit asked. "It seems to me that all he's concerned with is burning town forests and towns. He's not necessarily evil, just out of control."

"That's a good point, but that's all the more reason to take him down," Palutena said. "As soon as you two are fully healed, we need to take care of this as fast as possible."

"If only my Flage necklaces hadn't broke," Viridi muttered, crossing her arms.

"But now you know how resilient they are to intense heat," Pit said, encouraging enough, until he added with a frown, "which is not at all."

"Hey, I didn't anticipate there being a dragon being there!" Viridi shouted. "They were only supposed to make your skin fireproof during your fight with Pyrrhon!"

"And then, the dragon blew them into bits," Dark Pit said glumly.

"This whole thing wasn't Viridi's fault," Palutena interjected. "It was just circumstances. I was the one who forced Viridi to let you use the necklaces even before they had been tested."

"Don't blame yourself, Lady Palutena," Pit said, frowning. "You just wanted to wipe out Aurum Pyrrhon before he caused any more destruction."

Palutena smiled at him warmly. "Thank you, Pit."

Dark Pit gave an exasperated sigh, and Viridi pretended to gag. "Well, I think I'm going to take a trip to the hot springs," Dark Pit said before Pit could retort. He rose from the ground, stretching his arms above his head, and looked down to his lighter counterpart. "You coming?"

Pit rolled his eyes before standing up with him. "Fine," he replied, and the two angels left the flame-flickered room.

Viridi swung her legs from the short little ottoman. She took a last, draining sip from her iced drink, looking at Palutena curiously. "You know, you kind of baby him," Viridi commented, her glass hand lowering. "Pit, I mean."

"I think your definition of 'babying' is a lot different from my definition," Palutena replied. "Pit has learned to respect me in ways that Dark Pit hasn't even reached with serving you because he hasn't developed a relationship with you yet." Palutena smirked then. "Besides, I don't baby him as much as I used to."

Viridi scowled. "Respect doesn't come from a general likeness of that person. It comes from knowing who's really in charge. Dark Pit doesn't need to like me in order to respect me."

"Oh, but I think he really does like you." Palutena gazed into the fire reflectively then, a faint smile playing at the edges of her lips. "He was the one who made the choice to serve you and the Forces of Nature after the War."

"He only came to me because he wanted to be able to fly again."

"He came to you so that he could have a purpose," Palutena pointed out. "Not just so that he could fly again. And the only person he knew that he could stand that would be able to bring him that purpose was you—whether you like it or not."

"Dark Pit came to me because you weren't able to make two angels fly at once," Viridi said bitterly. "Remember when we tried, and what he said after finding out he had to work for me instead of you? He made it clear that he didn't have an ounce of respect of my position to begin with. So now I'm going to have to make him respect it."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Palutena said. "You're just making yourself feel miserable. If Dark Pit didn't like the Duty you represent towards this earth, then he wouldn't have stayed with you for this long."

"Gee," Viridi said, crossing her arms. "Thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Palutena said. "But if you think about it, what I'm trying to say makes sense. Arlon and Phosphora serve you because they like who you are. That natural attraction of a person's character is what brings them to your door step, not the mindset of serving someone. Part of the reason Pit is so optimistic about his Duty is because he loves serving me. Now, the overall mission for serving the Light is there also, but I know that everything he does, he does because I tell him too. And he listens to me, because he likes me."

Viridi was silent, standing in front of the fire pit with her drink still in hand. A nature sprite came up to her gingerly, a pitcher of more iced tea in its hand, and Viridi let him take it to refill her glass. Taking her glass back from the creature, she said at last,

"How long have you known Pit for?"

Palutena turned to her, her eyes distant. "Since he was very young," she said vaguely. "As you know, angels don't age the way humans do, or the way gods do, either. But I'd say Pit looked about four or five when I came to take care of him."

Viridi smiled. "And so you used to baby him?"

Palutena grinned. "He used to be quite cute when he was younger."

* * *

"Five."

Pit looked at his twin with disbelieving eyes. Dark Pit rolled his, and reluctantly said instead, "Alright, fine. Six."

"Only six?"

Six was about the number Dark Pit rated his time with Viridi.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, if I were to rate my time with Palutena, I would rate it over nine thousand-!"

"We're only rating with a scale that goes one through ten. So rate with that."

Pit frowned. "Okay . . . then a ten and a half?"

Dark Pit threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I guess that's admiration for you."

"But seriously . . .only six?"

"Yeah." He gave him a look. "Why?"

Pit shrugged innocently. "I don't know. I would think you would prefer serving Viridi than wandering around on your own in the Overworld."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Pit-stain. I serve no one else other than myself. Now, you may content with that type of life, but I'm not. Once I get the Power of Flight back, I'm outta here."

"It's not like it's a bad way of living to me. It's just matter of putting the needs of the greater good above my own. Besides, if you had never joined Viridi's army, then I would've been toast at the hands of Pyrrhon's dragon. You saved me . . . once again."

Dark Pit looked at him in alarm. This was getting way too deep for him. Was this what it was life in Skyworld every day of the week? These sappy, tender-hearted, emotion filled conversations? Dark Pit didn't think he'd be able to last another minute of all of this. He frantically searched for an escape route.

"Yeah, well. I still wouldn't call it the most ideal life. Viridi's still a pain in the ass."

Pit laughed out loud, letting Dark Pit know that he had succeeded in getting his mind off the subject. He started to relax, thoroughly caught off guard at the upcoming comment that he was about to make, "You and her would be perfect together!"

Dark Pit, his eyes closed in peaceful recollection, snapped them open at once at once. He retorted quickly, "Are you saying that I'm a pain the ass?"

Curse Pit and his casual observations! Nonchalantly, the angel replied, "If, by being a pain in the ass, you mean reluctant to authority and inclined to insults, then yes!" Pit laughed again, amused by his own joke, calming down only when he saw Dark Pit glare at him from across the hot spring. "Well, I didn't think you'd take it so seriously—"

Dark Pit scoffed. "I'm not so easily injured as you are, Pit Stain."

"Would you stop calling me that for once!?" Pit exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "It's getting redundant."

"You know, the logic in this situation, Pit-for-Brains," Dark Pit began, using one of Viridi's common names for him, "is that, the more you get annoyed by me calling you that, the more I'm just going to continue to call you that."

Pit was silent and Dark Pit smirked, feeling rather superior.

Then Pit put both hands behind his head and smiled insolently. "Well, at least I _have_ a real name."

Dark Pit feigned a wound to his heart. "Whoa. Low blow, there. Low blow. I didn't actually think you could be so harsh."

* * *

"I am _so_ ready to show that dragon who's boss!" Pit said determinedly, dashing down corridors. "It won't even know what hit him!"

As their injuries healed, Pit was able to journey back to Skyworld with Palutena. Two days later, Palutena called him to the Main Hall once again, and Pit was more than ready to be up and flying again.

When the angel entered the Hall, however, he was surprised to find that Viridi and Dark Pit weren't there already. Stepping forward with a question on his lips, Lady Palutena looked up from her conversation with one of the centurions, and smiled. "'Morning, Pit."

"Lady Palutena," Pit said, bowing his head quickly. "Where's Viridi?"

Palutena, quickly getting where he was going with this, excused herself from the centurion whom she was talking with to give Pit her full attention. "Arlon hasn't finished those Flage Necklaces yet," Palutena told him. "So that particular mission is on hold."

"Aw, man!" Pit said, frowning. He'd been looking forward to another mission with Dark Pit. Even though their last one hadn't ended that well, at least it had a good start. "When will Arlon be finished with them?"

"The last ones he had made took over three months," Palutena informed to a gradually deflating Pit. "But don't worry; Arlon has promised that he'll get to work on the Necklaces 'with haste'."

"Sounds like something he'd say." Pit sighed. "Well, what should I do until then?"

Palutena chuckled nervously and moved towards the center of the room. Pit trotted after her. "A friend came in last night, asking for a favor," Palutena said, a hand going to itch the back of her head subconsciously. "He called in asking if we could take care of a large problem he's been having lately, spawning from some . . . unusual disturbances within his area."

"Great!" Pit said, not really getting where this was going. When Palutena didn't give him any more information, he prodded, "So . . . where's this guy calling from?"

"The ocean floor," Palutena said, surprising Pit a little. "He's the son of Poseidon."

"Son of . . . wow," Pit said, recalling an old, bearded man from one of his earlier adventures. "I didn't know that guy had a son!"

"You'd better believe it," Palutena murmured under her breath. "This monster that's disturbing the area—it's pretty nasty. They call it—"

"The Sea Witch." Pit turned at the sound of another voice entering the room. A man strode in; tall and well-built, with white blond hair and aquamarine blue skin. Noticing he and Palutena at the center of the room, he gave a warm, amiable grin; charming as it was with the rest of his face and yet dangerous at the same time; giving light to the rest of his features. He had a strong jaw, a longish face and vivid blue eyes. His outfit was fit for a warrior's, with gold breasted armor with scaly bronze arm and leg plates, and heavy looking shoulder plate that was akin to Palutena's, only his shimmered a bright gold and silver that shimmered like fish scales. Below his white tunic, large webbed feet stuck out, and his neck was lined with gills.

Pit returned the blue-man's bright smile. Lady Palutena did not.

"It's a pleasure," The man said, reaching forward to take Pit's hand. He shook it, and the man's grip was firm and sure. "I've heard rumors about your fighting, and legends of how you defeated Hades—stories run wild, on land and on sea." He let go of Pit's hand, chuckling. "Though, I don't believe in half of them, you've surely earned my respect. Is it true that you managed to tame the feisty Goddess of Nature?"

Pit's smile grew. "In a way, yeah. Though she's definitely not destroying any more cities for her large scale environmental project, she's still a real pain in the neck."

Nereus gave a laugh, and Pit thought he quite liked this Sea-God. "I could only imagine. My name's Nereus."

"I'm Pit, Captain of Palutena's guard," he said, feeling the need to prove himself to this warrior type man. Strapped to his back, the angel noticed a long sword, its hilt glittering gold and silver in the natural light of Skyworld.

Nereus took a more somber demeanor, looking away from Pit and Palutena both. "Unfortunately, your skill is what attracted me to you especially. This Woman—no one's actually seen her before and has lived to describe it. She's mysterious and unfamiliar, and that's what makes it terrifying, because the only victim it preys upon is the most helpless of them all—children."

Pit sucked in a breath. Palutena didn't meet his eyes. "So you mean—all the children of your city-?"

"Not all of them, no," Nereus hastened to correct him. "You see, this monster only comes out at night, in the dark. We think it plays an enticing song that only the children can hear, and attracts only the children who are up late at night wandering, away from their homes. Once they hear the music . . . well. We've taken precautions, of course, and made sure children are kept away and locked up once the sun sets, but it's a disaster. There are those who are feeling the edges of panic and there are those who don't believe in the threat out there. The ones who couldn't care less are the . . . middle party, particularly the adolescents of the sea. They think that this is all one great lie to impose harsher military methods on the ocean floor, starting with a curfew and ending with an all-out war."

"Why would they think that? That you're just making this all up?" Pit asked.

"My people have been anticipating a conflict with a neighboring country ruled by my father," Nereus said. "They are protected by a large army of some of my best—but many think that we have expanded too much, and that we should cut down our ranks."

"But since you've got an army, couldn't you just use them to hunt out this threat?" Palutena spoke.

"We've tried," Nereus said, a bit tiredly. "This Woman doesn't seem to have a home base or anything. I've tried sending out our best trackers, all coming away lost and confused. She seems to lure the children back into a spirit realm that is beyond ours. From what we've seen, She's allowed to open portals to these realms from all over. We've got absolutely no lead. It's chaos."

"No, it's not," Pit said with determination. "We can track down this spirit and track it down somehow. We won't let chaos win."

Nereus smiled slightly. "Your willingness is the reason why I am so indebted to you—to you both—for coming down to help me and defeat this terror. It's my responsibility to protect these people of the Seafloor, and I have failed them."

"We're glad to help," Pit spoke for them both. He saw Palutena growing more and more bothered by the moment, and he thought it best to speak before she said something nasty to him. "But—um, how am I different than all of your soldiers? I don't have any special abilities—not without Palutena."

Nereus gave a nervous chuckle. "Well, it's like I said—" he cast a nervous look to Palutena—"me choosing you to aid me in finding this monster is the reason I sought you out specifically. Seeing as you're a child—a gifted one, no doubt, but one nonetheless—"

"Oh!" Pit said, shocked. His eyes were wide. "Oh—um—okay. And you said no one's seen it and come back alive. . . ?"

"This hasn't been _exactly_ been tried before. For all we know, you could become possessed like all of the others and fall right into Her clutches . . ."

"Right." Now Pit knew why Palutena looked so menacing towards him. She glared with daggers at him, obviously more unsure and uptight about this idea than anyone else in the room. He relented. "Well, if it'll help . . ."

Nereus gave a smile, putting a hand on the angel's shoulder. "Don't worry, it will. If this works—you would be saving lives."

Pit let out a breath, trying to come to terms. "Okay. Yeah, okay. I'm cool with that. So once I hear this monster's call, I just send for you and we can just follow it together?"

"And me, as well," Palutena said, her gaze level. "You're not going down there and confronting this monster alone, Pit."

"You'll be backed up by the whole Underwater Army," Nereus assured. "And us. But actually, Palutena's only joining us in this journey because—"

"Nereus has invited us for a few days," she interrupted him. "To prepare to hunt for this monster."

"And for a feast," Nereus pointed out. "My father and I—well, mostly I- wish to thank you for driving the Underworld Forces out of the Seafloor Palace when Hades was in control."

"I already let Viridi know where we were going to be already," Palutena informed him, "so we won't have to worry about an invasion on Skyworld from the Forces of Nature for not letting her know where we went."

"Right," Pit replied, grinning.

"But there's one more thing you might need before we head off," Nereus said, producing a couple of pearls from the inside of his tunic. "These are necessary if you are going to be down on the Seafloor for a couple of days. They'll alleviate the water pressure in your ears, so that your brains would explode from all of that force. Balancing out the inner workings of your body, it'll also alter your body structure to adapt to being underwater—specifically, your lungs. Before long, they'll be able to filter water of its usual oxygen that you need to live, and then you'll be able to breathe underwater." He grinned suddenly, noticing the look of confusion that was on Pit's face. "Sorry. Just a lot of scientific mumbo-jumbo. I've been taking quite an interest in our science division, and the head has been giving me the details on the works for months."

"It's fine," Pit said brightly, reaching for the pearl in his hand. "We have a guy like that too. Arlon the Serene. He messes around with all sorts of things, inventing and creating things to help me and Dark Pit fight better."

"Arlon? Dark Pit?" Nereus said, sounding genuinely surprised. "You have a twin?"

"Yeah, but he's nothing like me," Pit said, "hence the "dark". But he's not evil, not really, he just thinks he is . . . it's hard to explain."

"Enough with the chit chat," Palutena said, crossing her arms. "Time is running out."

"Right," Nereus said with as much obedience as Pit responded to. "Anyway, the pearls help. Doing it this way ensures your safety, and saves my dad the strength it would originally take him to produce miracles like he had done before, saving him the effort of splitting the freaking Red Sea just so that you could wipe out a few Underworld creatures."

"Sorry about that," Pit said, reaching for the pearl in his hand.

"None taken," Nereus said brightly. "It was more creatures than I gave detail on; you just cleared the way so that our armies could take out the rest and retake the palace."

"Is it safe?" Palutena asked, looking at her own pearl.

"Perfectly," Nereus said, a hand up. "I swear, it's been tested already. But not on animals!" He gave a laugh, and Pit smiled, but Palutena remained skeptical. He didn't know why Palutena could have such an issue with this guy; he seemed great. Nereus cleared his throat again, instantly uncomfortable. "Um, yeah. So when we get to shore, just break those at your feet and you'll be set. It's set to last about 48 hours, 50 at the most, and that should be plenty of time to find that creature and end it for good."

"Or not," Palutena said casually enough, and Pit looked at her in alarm. She was acting absolutely sour. "We never managed to kill the Chaos Kin. We aren't invincible."

"Love that optimism." Nereus sighed. "Well, it's really our pleasure," he said to Pit. "Last time you were there, the place positively _reeked_ of Underworld forces, but now you get to see it in all of its magnificence and splendor. Mind you," Nereus began wistfully, "I'd only turn to you if I had no other option. The situation down there by now is, to say the least, severely unpleasant."

"So you'd better go and pack," Palutena said with a side glance in Pit's direction. Pit took the hint and scampered off towards the dormitories to pack some clothes and other necessities, leaving poor Nereus to deal with an uncharacteristically annoyed Palutena himself. He took the stairs to the left, hopping up them two at a time, his mind wandering off to the dangers and enterprises this mission may have to offer.

"And make sure you pack a few deadly weapons after you're done!" Palutena called from below.

* * *

 **A/N: Motherly Palutena! How we love you so! Even in your irrational mood swings! *COUGH*KIU Heads of Hewdraw, Chapter 3*COUGH COUGH***

 **Wow, we're in chapter three already and there's an OC! ALREADY? But don't worry; this isn't one of those stories where the author diverts all their attention to their OCs and completely forget to develop the characters that the readers already know and love! This is FANfiction-we aren't FANS of the OCs! We are FANS of our beloved Pit, Dark Pit and Viridi! . . . oh yeah, and Palutena, too.**

 **Anyway, after a chapter with Dark Pit, we're going to swing on by Pit on his mission to the Seafloor Palace for an ARC! (Wow-my first story arc. This is exciting!) Get ready readers for the ADVENTURE part of this fanfiction! (Wow, am I way too excited for this thing? I must be. Oh well. NO ONE IS GONNA RAIN ON THIS PARADE. *confetti everywhere* YEAH.)**


	4. Dirty Magic

_**"I wish I had an angel to do my bidding. It's like having an intern."**_ **–Viridi to Pit and Palutena, in Chapter 11:** _ **Viridi, the Goddess of Nature**_

* * *

Dark Pit didn't think anteaters could be so bloodthirsty. His mission down to the Overworld had notified him of otherwise.

He dodged to the side before the creature's snout had caught up to him. It wasn't _exactly_ an anteater, actually; it just looked and acted like one. It had a long snout that constantly pointed to the ground whenever it fed. Seemingly harmless at first, it was vicious when provoked. It wielded its own long snout like a whip, using it for the offensive towards its enemies. An unassuming creature at first, it pounced towards its enemies in an offensive fashion with its panther-like muscles; lean and tense under its tough skin.

Dark Pit skid to the side, eyeing the creature in surprise. Yes, when it came to this monster, there was a lot more than what met the eye. He wasn't as if he had _meant_ to provoke the thing; there was a simmering danger beneath its peaceful gaze; a soul that unintentionally destroyed all that it touched. Lean muscles beneath a firm, black coat, it was conversely beautiful once you saw beneath all of its fierce glory. Dark Pit was almost sad that he had to kill it soon.

Almost.

Okay, so it wasn't like he went around picking fights with random jungle creatures for fun. As a matter of fact, he had learned to respect the many species of the Overworld. There was an aspect of glorious life to everything that breathed, and that applied to the creatures of the Overworld as much as Skyworld in Dark Pit's mind.

But on the flipside, this wasn't any normal anteater-panther hybrid. It fed on the life force of the plant life of the jungle, specifically its trees. And already the jungle was suffering, Dark Pit reflected, standing in a circle of dead grass and leaves as a result of the hybrid's power.

The creature roared at him, his snout widening unnaturally, its mouth stretching to twice its size of its head before reverting back to normal. Dark Pit clenched his tiger claws and stared at the thing head on, caught in the middle of his hesitation on whether he should attack it first or let it attack him. The latter would, of course, put him on the defensive, something that Dark Pit especially disliked. Before he could make a decision, however, a sharp, belittling voice rang through his mind and broke his concentration.

 _"Buck up and FIGHT, you lazy brat!"_ Viridi's voice startled him like no other, and he opened his mouth for a comeback, before the anteater hybrid took its chance to attack him.

Dark Pit was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him and his hands pinned to his sides. "I was _thinking_!" Dark Pit roared at Viridi as he thought of a way to get out of his predicament.

 _"Well, stop thinking, and just REACT for once!"_ Viridi fired back. Dark Pit desperately searched his mind for a solution while his limbs were held down by the monster's weight. Taking Viridi's advice, for once, he reeled back, just as the creature was coming in to chomp on his neck, and reacted, headbutting it hard.

Dark Pit stumbled back, his heart racing, but otherwise free. "You could've gotten me KILLED!" Dark Pit shouted, annoyed.

 _"Ah, quit your whining,"_ she replied. _"I saved your sorry ass, didn't I?"_

Dark Pit muttered something rather unsavory before rushing at the creature. He activated his Bumblebee Power, attacking the creature before it could react against him. He surged around the creature, a flurry of attacks directed at its face, body and haunches lightning-fast before the Power ran out.

 _"Dark Pit, look out!"_ Viridi warned, and Dark Pit whipped around just as its long anteater-like snout got a hold of him. He was whacked on the head and was sent sprawling, getting a taste of his own medicine as the beast stalked towards him.

 _"Idiot!"_ yelled Viridi, as Dark Pit rubbed his head in pain.

"Says you!" Dark Pit spat, trying to get the creature to stop wobbling in his distorted vision. "This is harder than it looks!"

The creature lunged again, and Dark Pit sliced at its flank once more, sending it into the trees to his left. He stumbled to his feet and shook himself off, rushing towards the hybrid while it was down.

 _"Yeah, right!"_ Viridi said. " _If you'd just remember what I told you during your training—"_

Dark Pit paid no attention to her. The fight between it and the creature drove him to focus once more, adrenaline blocking out everything that didn't have to do with the battle at hand.

The hybrid roared again, and attacked Dark Pit with something other than its snout—its claws. Dark Pit was knocked to the ground from his fighting stance and flipped to the ground. Meanwhile Viridi was still shouting in his ears—

 _"—got to keep your distance! You're too offensive—I told you this before! Offense never works when your enemy is stronger than you!"_

"Don't you know how to be quiet?" Dark Pit growled.

The hybrid pounced over to Dark Pit's fallen figure, and Dark Pit did a sweep kick. He sent the creature to the ground while sprouting up off of it himself, and braced himself for another one of Viridi's enlightening commentaries.

To his surprise, none actually came. Dark Pit stepped towards the creature, buckling down at last. He was through playing games. It was late, and he was tired of getting beat up by this life-sucking creature.

The hybrid hissed at him, and rushed towards the angel with menace. Dark Pit could see that the creature was through with this fight as well. But he knew that there was only one way that this was going to end, and he knew that he wasn't going to be the one going down. Dark Pit braced himself to be on the defensive at last, and sidestepped the rushing creature deftly. It ran past him in confusion, snorting in annoyance like a bull before it came in to focus on him once more.

He took his chance at last. He activated his Super Speed Power and dashed. Dark Pit met it with his claws outstretched, and the impact of his Power and the force of his Tiger Claws sent the creature sprawling up into the air. Stopping himself at the base of a tree before he lost control and ran face first into it, he spun around just in time to watch the creature land on the ground with a loud _thud_. He made his way towards the fallen figure cautiously.

 _"I_ think _it's dead,"_ Viridi's voice broke through once more.

Dark Pit looked at it carefully. Something about the way it _didn't_ move told him that it probably was.

"It is," Dark Pit said, and he put his claws away. "Well? How did I do?"

 _"I think I'll give you an 'E' for 'Exceptional',"_ Viridi replied. _"Your overuse of Powers made it seem like you were just lazy and impatient."_

"Thanks, Viridi," Dark Pit said, rolling his eyes. "You're too kind."

" _I'll praise you when you actually deserve it! There are too many problems in your fighting right now for me to be praising you."_

"It's not like I _had_ to go down to the Overworld even when I've gone to bed to defeat your little problem," Dark Pit retaliated. "All I'm asking for is a little appreciation."

There was a pause.

" _Whatever,"_ Viridi said. Dark Pit supposed he couldn't push his luck _too_ far. " _Besides,_ " she said, smirking. " _It's not like you have a choice in the matter."_

Dark Pit resolutely decided not to reply. The matter in which he had come to Viridi's service was still a bitter memory in his mind. He took to the jungle's center, preferring to walk off his anger by the light of the full moon while searching the grounds for more threatening monsters to take care of.

" _And now that's over and done with,"_ Viridi said, in a slightly more superior tone than before (if that was at all even possible), " _But you have to remember, Dark Pit,_ _you've got to learn how to duck, or else your enemy is going to take advantage of you much quicker that that!"_

"Say, you know what I think we should do next time?" Dark Pit said loudly, pushing his way through the thick over growth of the jungle. Viridi was really pushing him to the limit this time. It was time she knew what was up, or not at all.

 _"What?"_

" _I_ think YOU should go down there and protect your sorry-ass jungle sometime, and not me! Oh, and better yet, maybe _I_ could shout insults and misdirections in YOUR ear while you're in the middle of fighting!"

Viridi sniffed. _"That would be unorthodox. Only angels go down and keep the peace, not gods."_

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't believe you," Dark Pit countered. He was making his way down a deep ravine right about now, plants snagging at his toes. Finally he came to the bottom, his feet wet and dirty from the thick jungle plant life.

" _There's just too much going on for us up here. There's no way we'd be able to handle everything ourselves."_ Viridi replied with a superior tone. " _Of course, you wouldn't know what it's like. The life of a god is hard."_

"You don't seem too busy to me," Dark Pit replied. "If all you're doing is yelling in my ear—"

" _And besides, there's a golden rule that all gods must follow_ ," Viridi said, ignoring Dark Pit. " _We must NEVER interfere with the humans directly. If there's trouble on the Overworld, then we must deal with it by selecting a hero to take up the burden."_

"And why is that?" Dark Pit asked, unable to help being interested.

" _Why do you think?"_ Viridi said. " _Gods are simply much more important than angels. If something were to happen to us, order would be disrupted, and chaos would ensue, because we are the ones who keep the peace."_

"That's paradoxical," Dark Pit was about to reply, when something immediately caught his eye.

A river ran though the bottom of the ravine, one that Dark Pit was used to washing his face and soaking his feet in its waters. But something kept him from doing it this time. He couldn't explain it, especially by the dark of the night lit only by the moon's shine, but something told him that there was something detrimentally wrong with the river's water.

He bent down, cupping some of its water into his hands and bringing it up to his face. In the moon's light, he could see it better; the river's water was black, and its texture was as thick as mud.

Dark Pit released the water in surprise. He couldn't explain the river water's state, and neither could Viridi. Everything suddenly seemed very surreal, as if the river had frozen time for him in order for him to get a better grasp of the situation. Looking up finally from the river's polluted waters, he looked up, straight to a tree that lived solely on the river's waters. He saw, by the moon's dim light, the state of unnatural decay that the tree seemed to be going through, slimmer and more withered than he last remembered.

A groan from the tree's base made him stop. It sounded like the sound a tree would make under the pressure of powerful winds, but the air was still and thick with humidity. Startled, he looked down, and what he had at first mistook for a set of gnarled roots, he now saw for a girl—slumped, her eyes closed.

 _"Eden . . ."_ Viridi muttered in shock.

"Who?" Dark Pit breathed. This unnatural phenomenon freaked him out, more than a little.

 _"The nymph in charge of this jungle,"_ Viridi said faintly.

Dark Pit kneeled over to her to see if she was alright. Her arms were folded beneath her head, and if Dark Pit had known any better, he might have thought she was resting. The girl was small and emaciated, just like the tree; her skin dark and green like the large leaves of the tree. He put a couple of fingers to her neck, just how Viridi taught him to, to check for a pulse. Her neck was hard, unyielding; the skin not quite feeling like skin at all. Dark Pit shrank back, confused. He could hear her shallow breathing; why was there no pulse?

 _"It's because she's a wood nymph, idiot,"_ Viridi berated, probably not able to help herself. " _And trees don't have heartbeats."_

"She must be sick," Dark Pit said, becoming a little worried. He knew that nymphs existed; he'd just never seen one before. "Since she's not tied to her tree."

"I am dying," stirred a voice. Dark Pit almost missed it, the sound like the whispers of leaves in the wind. Eden's eyes opened, and they were as black as the river she drew from. "The earth . . .it's dying."

 _"It's the river,"_ Viridi told her. " _Eden, how was the river polluted?"_

"It's not the river," Eden replied weakly. "It's the earth. Someone has polluted the earth, and the Dirty Magic is spreading."

"How does someone pollute the earth?" Dark Pit muttered, at the same time Viridi asked, _"But Eden, who was it? Who used this Magic?"_

"I do not know," Eden said, closing her eyes again. "All I do know . . . is that they want the earth for themselves."

 _"Dark Pit, go to the river_ ," Viridi commanded after Eden had finished talking. " _And please- don't stick your hands in it again. Take one of Eden's leaves, and dip into the river. We're going to take in the river's water for analysis."_

"Okay," Dark Pit said, reaching up to pick a leaf from her branches. Before turning to go to the river, however, he paused, looking at the wood nymph crumbled at the base of the tree once more. "Wait. What about Eden?"

" _There's nothing we can do for her,_ " Viridi said bluntly. " _Like I said, she's tied to the life of her tree. If we take her in for treatment, her tree might go before she does, and she'll die either way."_

"None of this makes any sense!" Dark Pit shouted up to her, indignant. "We come down to the Overworld to protect its plant and wild life! Now, you're telling me that we're just going to leave her to die with her tree?!"

" _We can't help her, Pittoo!"_ Viridi seethed. Dark Pit flinched. He still hated that name, and she knew it. _"Not until we can find out what's causing this decay_!" Dark Pit remained here he was, Eden's leaf clenched tight in his hand, and Viridi continued. " _Part of protecting nature means knowing when to let things go. It's the circle of life, Pittoo. You can't save everyone."_

Holding his place a couple moments more, he moved to the river at the bottom of the ravine and dipped the leaf in. Taking it out again, he made sure it had been coated thoroughly with the river ink. Viridi's light shone down on him then, cool and smelling of the garden after a heavy rain, to take him back to the Hanging Gardens. Before his departure, he stole a glance back at Eden, and then looked back to the leaf in his hand, not liking the way it looked at all.

XXX

For some reason, Arlon really freaked him out.

I mean, _really_ freaked him out.

He didn't even know why. There wasn't anything about the Moon God that was actually freak-worthy. But every time Viridi had requested Arlon to the Fortress to discuss matters, Dark Pit was filled with a chilling sense of bizarre.

Yeah, he couldn't explain it either. But you know that creepy feeling that you sometimes get when you meet a person for the first or second time?— the feeling that, no matter how you try, can't shake off? And later you usually realize that it's just you being paranoid about a particular person, about the oddball personality that some distant uncle just possesses. But then you think. What about all of those scary movies, where people ignore their intuitions about a person, and then suddenly wind up dead in the next ten minutes _by that same person_? It was the same creep factor that Dark Pit was feeling right about now, only heightened, because of the fact that he was actually _alone_ with the guy that gave him the willies.

That's right. Viridi forced him to help Arlon with those wonderful Flage necklaces we keep hearing about. That meant being completely isolated, in the care of this distant, weird entity, for weeks up in the Lunar Sanctum.

"What!?"

You don't even have to imagine his reaction.

Viridi raised her head from her desk, glancing up at him disinterestedly. "Seriously, Pittoo? I thought you'd welcome the peace and quiet up there. Really, it's not a bad place."

"I—I know," Dark Pit stuttered. In his growing unease, he almost forgot to retort, "And don't call me that."

"What's the matter, then?" Viridi questioned, her feather pen falling limp in her hand. She looked up at him from behind her seeing-eyeglasses; she looked like a moody schoolroom teacher, fed up with have to deal with _that one student_ for the umpteenth time. "I need you to take that leaf we gathered last night up to Arlon for analysis. I can't make heads or tails of it. Also, Arlon needs all the help he can get in order to make these necklaces, A.S.A.P."

"Yeah, I get it, but can't you just give to him yourself?" Dark Pit spat. He was feeling especially snappy right now, spawned probably from his uncanny fear. At Viridi's appalled look, he went on to say, "I can help out down here and – train, or something. You keep on telling me not to use so many powers. I'll train without them. I'll catalogue my progress. I'll—do something," he finished lamely.

She still didn't catch the hint. Either that, or she didn't care. She looked at him narrowly. "This isn't going to slide, Dark Pit. I need you up in the Sanctum. Everyday, dozens of trees are being burned down because of the damage Pyrrhon and his infernal dragon are doing."

"I know!" Dark Pit blurted, surprising them both. Viridi blinked. Dark Pit sighed. "I'm fine. I'll help Arlon with his invention."

Viridi quirked an eyebrow. "Are you _sure."_

"Yes!" Dark Pit exclaimed abruptly. He turned away from her, stalking towards the Arms Altar to choose a weapon for their start journey to the Lunar Sanctum. _Really_ , he asked himself. _What was the problem?_

XXX

Stumbling onto the platform, Dark Pit steeled himself for what seemed like was going to be hours of torture.

Large, gilded doors opened the way for him automatically. There, in the midst of a dome shaped, cluttered room, Arlon sat, bent over his work, peering into what looked like a magnifying glass.

Dark Pit strode up to him, handing over the glass jar with the contaminated leaf inside of it. Arlon looked up at him at the last minute, about to comment about his presence, until Dark Pit interrupted him.

"Here," he said shortly, insolence framing the bulk of his tone. "Viridi wants you to examine this. We found it down on the Overworld, polluting some river."

Arlon nodded and took the jar, peering inside. He withdrew the leaf daintily.

"Viridi also wants me to help you," Dark Pit said, and with some effort, "here. She wants to makes sure that some progress can be made on the Flage Necklaces, and figured me helping you would speed things up a bit."

"That would make some sense," Arlon said only.

Dark Pit stood there idly, watching as Arlon observed the leaf in detail, turning it over and over until he at last set in on his worktable.

At last Dark Pit couldn't take it anymore. "Well," Dark Pit said, "is there anything you need me to do?"

"Not at the moment, Master Dark Pit," Arlon said to him. "I had been working more on the Necklaces before you had showed up. But for now, I believe I shall be observing this specimen of Dark Magic you've brought me here—for that _is_ what I am holding here, yes?"

"Yeah," Dark Pit said, missing that particular detail.

"I see," Arlon said neutrally, still examining the leaf. "For now, you may sit down in the chair across from me—I shall let you know when I am done with my observation of this specimen for today, and then we will be able to commence with working on the Necklaces."

So Dark Pit sat, stuck with his thoughts that lingered on the wood nymph in the forest, so infected with the dark magic, so that she'd probably die before they could ever figure it out. He waited for Arlon, waited for him to give a chance to help him, so that he could figure out how to stop this plague that found itself in the Overworld. He worried about Pit, worried about him without even realizing it, about his mission down on the Seafloor, and him facing monsters and other dangers. But, most of all, he worried about himself, and about the time that he was spending with Arlon, and hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't die, _here_ of all places, due to boredom and worry.

* * *

 **A/N: WHOA! More action! More intrigue! And, to be honest, coming up with an idea for this chapter, as well as writing it, was IMMENSELY fun to do. Powers! Insults! Theological talks about the gods' purpose in the KI universe! WOW!**

 **I got the idea for the panther-hybrid from the James Cameron movie** _ **Avatar.**_ **You know the animal the main character, Jake Sully, first fights when he first departs from his group? Before he meets Neytiri? Yeah, that's my model for this hunk of beauty, except more with a tail like a chimeara's.**

 **Just read an article that said the person who decided to remake the Kid Icarus franchise with** _ **Kid Icarus: Uprising**_ **isn't planning on making a sequel for it. Said that fans may have to wait** _ **another**_ **25 years to expect a new game for our favorite angel.**


	5. The Descent

" _ **Have you**_ **seen** _ **these thighs?"**_ **– Pit to Viridi, in Chapter 19:** _ **The Lightning Chariot.**_

* * *

"I scheduled an early dinner," Nereus said, "for obvious reasons."

The reasons being, Pit thought, so that they could get an early start on hunting the spirit as soon as possible. It was obvious, with all of the preparations and orders the Sea-God was shouting to all of his men on the matter, getting troops ready to follow Pit when he was ready. It was obvious, but it held a truth that none of them wanted to give voice. After he had given them a tour of his palace, Nereus seemed extremely anxious as the night drew on, and he affected Pit because of it too. Soon they had drew into themselves completely, uncharacteristic for Pit, and a bad sign for someone like Nereus. They walked through the halls in silence.

Palutena had withdrawn to her rooms some time ago. Nereus had said, before she had left them, that a handmaid would alert when dinner was ready. When she gave no reply, Nereus sighed, seeming to resign his efforts on trying to have causal conversation with her.

Pit thought of that moment now. He figured that he and Palutena had some past history with each other, but could really lay his finger on what, exactly, and was tired of trying to think about it with so little to go on.

"Palutena seems really annoyed when she's with you," Pit said.

Nereus turned to him and blinked, as if just noticing his presence beside him. "Hmm? Annoyed?"

"Yeah," Pit said, getting wary. "Did you do something to her?"

Nereus looked alarmed. "I might have—no, I know I have, what am I saying? –I never hurt her on purpose—well, that doesn't sound any better, does it?" Nereus looked down, seeing the curiosity mingled with distrust within Pit's eyes. "It was a mistake. A mistake, may I add, that I didn't even commit. A look, perhaps, at someone that wasn't her, but that doesn't mean that the actions that came as a result were . . . of my own free will."

Pit's eyes widened. "You used to _like_ her?"

Nereus smiled, looking down. "I still do, in a way. But it's going to take some time for her to forgive me after all that's happened between us."

Pit's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"It's hard to explain," Nereus admitted. "I know I'm being very vague about all of this. But how about we save this for another time, yeah?"

Pit reluctantly agreed.

"Now, I hear that uncertainty in your voice," the Sea God said suddenly, stopping. "You don't trust me now."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Pit said slowly, "but I still feel like you're hiding some things from me. You sound as if you hurt Lady Palutena and didn't hurt her at the same time. You liked her, but you did something that messed everything up. I'm not—judging you, or anything. But you haven't given me any reason to fine with what you've told me up to now, either."

"And I don't blame you," Nereus said, sighing. He cast an eye around the space about them, his gaze lingering on the refracted light of the underwater architecture, finding solidarity in its stillness and taking time to recollect his thoughts. Taking another large, cleansing breath, he readied himself to tell his story. "I'm not the bad guy in this situation—I hope you can understand that. With everything I have to say to you now, just know—it's not my fault." Nereus put a hand through his hair, glaring anxiously at the ground. "Goodness, there isn't any other way to get all of this out, is there?"

"Hey," said Pit, noticing how much this was making the guy uncomfortable. "You don't have to . . ."

"But I do," said Nereus resolutely. "Because . . . There was . . . there was a time when the gods weren't nearly as isolated from each other as they are now, a time when they actually came to each other in times of need and also in times of celebration and mourning. Certain events have defined the age we are at right now, for gods to only come together when it is only out of their own selfish desires. The gods that you may know as bad were once good, and the gods that you may know as good may have once been bad. But this was also the time . . . when the gods were still learning, apt to make mistakes in their immaturity. And this was also the time when gods were, in their infinite knowledge of the freedom they possessed, caused mischief and put it upon themselves to have other gods stumble. And the worse god of them all, with his mind as capricious and as clever as can be, did this to Palutena and I, and because of him the whole race of gods afterwards distrusted each other and were divided amongst themselves. And it wasn't my fault," Nereus said, as if trying to convince not only Pit but of himself of that fact. "It was his fault- that tricky, manipulative little troublemaker who has no problem with ruining lives for his own entertainment at all."

"Who are you talking about?" Pit said, so wrapped up in Nereus' tale that he almost had forgotten that the world which he was referring to was his own.

Nereus gave him a sad smile. "Cupid," Nereus said only, and without explanation continued walking down the corridor of gilded, soft stoned walls with their cool blue light.

Pit couldn't say that he could fully understand Nereus' story between him and Palutena, but he supposed that was the point. In his mind, he tried to hammer out the details, silently musing over the past age of the gods and the conflict that had divided them and, last of all, of this mysterious god named Cupid that Pit was sure he had never heard of before. Had he really played such a role in permanently separating the gods like that? Was he good, or was he evil? Pit wondered whether someone good could change so drastically to do something inherently evil. What then, he asked himself, was evil? Was the trouble that this Cupid had stirred evil in itself, or just, as Nereus had called him, mischievous _?_ As they walked down countless doorways leading to different sections of the castle, the two mostly remained immersed in each other's thoughts, Nereus only piping up to give a quick word on which section of the palace they happened to be in at the moment. But nothing more. Reaching at last to the East Wing, Pit was still very much muddled within his own theories and speculations when Nereus seemed to gain new eyes, announcing that they had arrived at the Training Room, where they could spar until dinner was ready. And the angel was thankful for the reprieve from his own silent musings.

XXX

What Nereus held was a certain type of spear called a _trident._ Nereus let him know as much when Pit had asked him how in the world he was going to fight with a giant fork for a weapon.

It turns out that Nereus wasn't boasting when he claimed that he was the best fighter out there. Okay, so maybe he had been boasting, but he certainly wasn't lying. He knew how to use his weapon very well, making him an even match for Pit. The two went at each other, testing the other's abilities gradually, Nereus with his giant fork and Pit with his Crusader Blade. When they finally clashed with full momentum, blue light flashed from the impact, and the two were thrown back, skidding on the slippery training room floor.

Pit smiled. "That was quite a blow, wasn't it?"

Nereus smiled. "You're good. I might not need to teach you some new moves anyway."

Pit lowered his sword. "Come on, I'm not that good. I'm horrible, actually. I need help."

Nereus looked at the angel worriedly. "Okay, now you just sound like a drug addict. Or a sex addict. This is bad."

"But I really want you to teach me," Pit pleaded.

"Okay, okay, but let's make this interesting." Nereus put a hand to his chin, sizing the angel up. "How about, if you beat me, I'll teach you some new moves."

"That's not even fair. If I beat you, you won't _need_ to teach me!"

"We'll see about that," Nereus said, smiling. He lunged forward.

Sparring was good. It was something that he didn't have time to do with Dark Pit, and something that the centurions at Skyworld were all too wimpy to handle. It gave Pit all the pleasure of a good day's work of defeating Underworld forces, but instead of dealing with multitude of opponents, he had to force himself to concentrate on only one man. Going against a fighter like Nereus, who had been fighting for centuries, was something different entirely, and it gave Pit a unique type of thrill. The Sea-God had moves the likes of which he had never seen before, or had even thought possible. Like a regular spear, he twirled and spun his trident like it weighed nothing, reminding Pit of the strength that his opponent was actually capable of.

"But you've got a special skill," Nereus called to him, as they were measuring each other from across the training ring. "A natural talent that someone can't just train for. With the right mindset, you can defeat anything."

"Even you?" Pit said.

Nereus smirked. "Maybe even me."

The Crusader Blade was the ideal weapon for this type of combat. All melee, its attacks were focused and precise, weighted perfectly in Pit's hand. He was confident with this weapon, for he had handled it many times over, and he knew it would only take some small practice to learn some new moves with it. Pit presumed that this match was only based on skill, not on weapon type, and found that he was right when Nereus didn't try and direct any special attacks towards him.

"Fighting with any opponent is more mental than physical," Nereus told him, after a parry using only one hand of his weapon. "You have to measure not only their talents, skills sets, but also their motive for fighting. And once you figure that out you'll know how to beat them."

"But how to I know how to get their motive if I'm not even trying to kill them?" Pit said, after Nereus had succeeded in blocking another one of his advancements. "Like right now, for example. We're just sparring, not fighting to the death or anything like that."

"Everyone has a driving force," he replied. "Everyone is unique, and their individual fighting methods reflect the way they handle you as an opponent. Only when you truly know your enemy . . . can you really defeat them."

Pit took that to heart. Pit's short blade coupled with Nereus' medium-long one forced him to take the game play to him, up close and personal. As he tried to slip between Nereus' strong wall, the Sea-God took the defense, and Pit could see it on the god's face all of the effort it was taking just to keep blocking and parrying his attacks . . .

He was going to win this fight.

Then Nereus parried, making Pit slip up in one of his quick overhand dashes. The Sea-God side stepped, taking his chance, and the angel felt like he was falling in sort of slow-motion. Before the ground rose up to meet his face, however, the god behind him grabbed his shoulder from behind and whipped him over to see his face. His balance lost, he fell to the ground, the Crusader Blade spiraling from his grasp, and the metal tip of a bronze trident was placed steadily below his chin, its point directed towards his neck.

Pit looked down at the trident in surprise. He had been so sure . . .

"You thought you were going to win," Nereus stated.

"I . . . " Saying yes would make him seem too confident, and he didn't want to look quite so cocky next to the Sea God. Pit swallowed.

"I could see it in your eyes," Nereus said, and he removed the trident away from Pit's neck. Pit was grateful, and he took the hand that Nereus offered to him to lift him off the ground. "You're used to winning."

"Except against Dark Pit." At archery he excelled, but whenever he went hand to hand with his other self, he always ended up on the ground. He picked up his blade with forlorn. "I don't get it; whenever I feel like I've had the upper hand, I fall."

"It's because you're so consumed with yourself whenever you fight," Nereus said. "Whether it's because you're self-conscious about your fighting or you're so _good_ to ever think you need improvement, both are forms of pride that need to be put away in order to make room for self-improvement."

Pit stared at the ground, not answering. He didn't particularly like losing.

"The feeling of empathy," Nereus continued, "is not one that can be saved for one particular moment. It is something that has to be slipped on at all times, like a garment. During battle, it can be your armor, for when you are in tune with your opponent's actions and motives, you are better able to protect yourself from them. But don't lose hope." Nereus smacked him on the back. "You're a natural fighter, like I had said. You could just use some help getting to super awesome expert level, like me."

Pit snuck a look up at him. "Super awesome expert level, huh? No doubt your humbleness got you there, as well."

"But of course," Nereus said, grinning. "It is through pride and humility that one reaches super awesome expert level. All the world is in a balance, Pit; don't forget that."

Pit nodded and grinned up at him. "So about those moves you promised to show me-?"

"Oh yes, so that you wouldn't sound so much like an addict," Nereus said. "I would've thought about withholding from you, since I beat you, but, Pit, my friend-you are in _serious_ need of help. We'll pick up on those new moves later. Right now, it's time to eat."

XXX

Pit couldn't say exactly when he really went to sleep. Nereus' feast had left him stuffed and happy. The amount of food he had eaten would've put a normal person out. But there wasn't a tonic in Skyworld that could have been able to put the angel to sleep. He was anxious, anxious to defeat the Woman and defend the Underwater Kingdom. Excitement pulled at his bones, anticipation coursing through his veins, and he was unable to keep still for a definite amount of time. He could feel the whole castle waiting with him; humming with anticipation, in the way the soldiers kept their steady watch over the Underwater Palace, felt it in the movements of the castle cooks and the bakers, putting away various utensils and tools in which they exceed in their craft. He felt it in the subtle movements which the Palace's occupants breathed in, out, chest up, chest down; All of their dreams and all of their minds flitting from one thought to the other, always coming back to that initial worry, the ever present menace, that was . . .

After numerous castle wanderings, he felt something in the back of his mind tug at him, asking him to sleep. Even as his head hit the pillow, however, his mind was still alive with activity, dreaming about the mysteries which surrounded his matron goddess and the Sea God.

"So you didn't tell Pit about us?"

He imagined Palutena glaring at the Sea-God. "Why should I have? I wanted to forget."

"Palutena- then why did you come down to help me?"

The goddess seemed to be stumped. "Because you had broken away from Poseidon, you were in need, with little aid. You're in a tight situation, swaying precariously on the fence of War."

"So you aid me in time of need," Nereus pointed out. "Something that isn't mutually beneficial. It becomes a personal problem."

"It's not personal if it goes in line with everything I am and have fought for all my life. I am aiding you because it's my job to fight against the darkness and all who choose to ally itself within its means of destruction. You know that."

"So you coming here wasn't, in the least for, maybe, personal reasons . . .?"

"Even if it was, I don't want anything to do with it right now. Just let me . . . let me just focus on Pit right now. His safety is what is important to me. Not . . . you and I."

"It's more than that," Nereus insisted. "It has to be. All I am asking is that you forgive me—"

"You can't ask me to do that." Palutena's voice broke. "Not now, when I'm trying to handle these issues in the present. Don't make me go and deal with the past."

Nereus' face conveyed the only response; resignation. He looked like he couldn't meet Palutena's eyes, but the gesture was neutral. Sooner or later, she excused herself from the room, blinking rapidly, her eyes red.

Pit shied away from them, his mind wandering to other parts of the castle at night. Light seemed to depart much more quickly underwater than it did on land; the lights of the interior went out one by one, and Pit felt as if the lights within the castle mirrored the lights going out within himself, dulling out his sense of justice. The thought scared him. He preferred instead the mystical lure of the sound of many voices, calling out to him faintly, asking to come closer to their words just out of reach. The palace was eerie now; galvanizing Pit in his subconscious mind to go outside the palace; away from his own creeping resignation to the cold and the dark.

The glowing stones encased in light-refracting containers gave the evening scene a more lively look, but the light was not all encompassing as to drive out all the darkness away completely. Instead, the darkness lingered, hiding in the form of shadows. But without anyone knowing it, the darkness had found its way out from its prison and into the souls of the people standing in the town square. The angel saw it in their faces and in their voices, as they cried and shouted amongst themselves towards other people outside the town square. _The middle party_ , Pit thought; the young people that were against Nereus' rule. Over the angry protesting faces lit only by the dull glowing stone, yelling soldiers raised their deep voices over the fray.

"Go to your homes in peace, or else we will have to use force," the men shouted.

Frantically resisting their efforts of words and shields, the middle party stayed their ground, pushing against the soldiers who persisted to suppress them. "Is that a threat?" One of the shouted. "A sign of the government being used against us?"

"We refuse to comply with these military measures that are held to restrict out freedom! The Warrior King must be stopped!" shouted another.

"The Atlantic Army is put in effect to ensure _your_ safety!" several of the soldiers yelled, but their militant cries were drowned out by louder, more angry tones. Indignant, they stood, parading up and down streets, trying to gain others to their cause, promising chaos on the other side of families' homes, the jaded lights they held both taking away their justification for their cause and stealing it away at the same time.

Pit passed them by, keeping to the shadows, following his ears and the sound of the same mystical voice. He wanted no quarrel with the people roaming the streets. Though inside of him he was aware of the actual meaning that the young people's struggle meant, the actual unrest that was personified in them, the underlining distrust of their ruling king, Pit paid no mind. He had a more personal goal to attend to. His future awaited, and captured secrets to redeem. All he had to do was to get close enough to _Her . . ._

Others walked beside him, deaf to all but the sound of _Her_ voice. Presently within her fingers lay the outsiders who had strayed too far from the crowd of protestors in the streets. City streets gave way to dirt roads. Then came the underwater slopes and plains. Slipping deeper and deeper into the valley in which darkness descended, falling away more and more to things unseen and things unheard of.

By the time Pit was surrounded by the hands of darkness, the sound of singing, both alluring and appalling, rang through his ears. He could not think of anything else. It was impossible to, when sight was nonexistent, when shuffling bodies around him moved with the same sense of need as him, when the silence seemed only pierced by one singular, high-pitched note. Tendrils of aquatic plants and bodies of various corals brushed and scraped at the angel as he walked. Somewhere beyond him he was filled with the sense of something coming to greet him, the waters pushing back and forth with movement. Something was coming, something that was close and powerful, almost as powerful as a god.

Still blind, numb to any other sense other than her voice, he stopped suddenly. The voice had stopped, but something else beyond this was starting to be expected. The other young sea children stopped where he stood, though he wasn't aware of them. And then, the action he had been waiting for, from the person he had been awaiting the most, occurred, and at last she spoke with clarity.

"Silly angel," a deep, feminine voice murmured. "You're sleepwalking. I was trying to figure out a way to get you into my clutches, but it turns out you're just like the rest of them, no different. Silly angel. How disastrous that you be here too."

The Sea Witch.

* * *

 **A/N: So . . . a twist between the draft dodgers of the Vietnam War and** _ **Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief?**_

 **Alright, so I've uploaded a list of character bios for you guys, to keep track of all of the characters I'm going to be introducing in my story. I know, I probably have borrowed the idea from some other author, but I felt like I should try it out. It'll be under "KIU Character Bios: The Chaos Mark". It's optional, and if you want to check it out, you can recap on what the characters I've introduced look like and what not. Sometimes it's pretty helpful. I'll try to update it regularly to keep up with the story. I'll even have place names there, too, and my personal opinions of the characters at hand, as well.**


	6. The Heart Betrays the Mind

" _ **I am Pit, servant of the Goddess of Light! And you. Are. HISTORY!"- Pit, while facing Medusa (the first time)**_

 **XxX**

Pit woke up.

Though he still couldn't see, he knew that voice was from some kind of enemy. He went on red alert, pulling his Hawkeye Bow out from behind him.

The Woman tittered before him. Her voice, Pit thought, had an odd, musical effect to it, a sort of Latin accent intermingling with her words. She was tall, not big like a god would be, but obviously powerful. By the heavenly weapon's light he could see a little bit of what was going on behind him; the Sea Witch, dark and ghostly before him, her hair a wild mess of black and her skin a deep, murky blue, and the kids; their eyes glazed over, oblivious to the open peril they were in, looking like a bunch of zombie sleepwalkers.

 _So much for calling Nereus and Lady Palutena for backup,_ Pit thought, giving a mental sigh.

"Let them go, or I'll shoot!" Pit said, immediately drawing back his bowstring.

The Woman chuckled again. "Don't be ridiculous. Your weapons have no effect here. Go ahead, fire at me. As powerful as I am, I will not come to any damage."

Pit grit his teeth, then fired. The arrow flew straight for her heart, right where it counted, but as soon as it neared her ghostly body, it turned transparent too, and went right through her, no harm done. Pit was dumbfounded.

"See?" The Woman smiled. "My power is too great. And it is just as well, you have brought me new vessels from which to draw my power. You are more useful than you give yourself credit for, child."

Pit frowned. Her voice was soft as if she truly meant no harm to him. He tried to pinpoint it. "Why do you want all of these children?" He asked instead. "Why do you draw your power from them?"

"Because I once lost mine," The Woman replied cryptically, and with a flicker of her fingers, the young girls and boys she had summoned walked towards her automatically.

"No!" Pit yelled, and tried to hold the kids back. He shoved on their shoulders, barreled into their chests, but they kept coming, moving forward with automatically fervor. Into the darkness they walked, deeper and deeper, below the Woman and where she floated, until the dark obscured them from view completely.

Pit had had enough. He whipped out his bow again, firing at her nonstop. Smoothly she deflected the arrows with a simple swipe of her hand, moving with such grace and ease that Pit couldn't believe his eyes. Frustration was gripping him fast, as he couldn't find a way to defeat this elusive, mysterious lady.

"Do you know why you slipped into the spell just as easily as the others, child?" The Woman smiled at him, and Pit lost the will to keep on firing. "Do you know why you cannot identify my weakness? It is because you do not know my history, child. My children, they were taken from me, and killed without mercy. I swore revenge on the killer, but I could never find him. My anger and pain gave me a long life, a ghost to drift in the Abyss where no one dwells. Every night I seek out my children again, so I can mourn their deaths. But they never come. So I use the spirits of the children who do come, because they give me strength, recognize me as their own mothers. Though it took years to manifest, I finally used their power to search for my killer, to grow stronger."

Pit felt exhausted all of a sudden, his eyes heavy. "That still . . . doesn't explain why I can't defeat you. You're not a god, but you're still . . . an enemy. A follower of . . . darkness."

"Silly angel. Can't you see? I am mother to all. No one can resist the sweet lullaby of the one who gave birth to them. And you most of all, who never knew your mother, landed right in my clutches. Oh, silly angel."

Pit tried to speak, but his eyes were closed, and he was slipping into unconsciousness fast. Instantly he slipped into a dream world not of his own creation, and he couldn't imagine a sweeter feeling.

"Sleep, child. Let my dream bring you a peace you never knew while you were awake . . ."

XXX

Like all dreams, Pit could only make out certain bits and pieces of it. Only a small part of it really made sense to him. The sun, bearing down on him through filtered curtains, woke him, and he woke to the scent of warmth and renewal. Warm arms hugged him close, and as he blinked his dreary eyes awake, the one who was hugging him shifted away from him. Pit turned around in confusion—those arms, they felt so familiar—and met a face just as bright and just as good. Though it seemed like she had woken up just moments before Pit, her shining, long honey-colored colored hair fell into a face that was long but soft and glowing. A smile reached her face, a face worn with recognition. Pit couldn't pin-point why in the world how he could sit there for so long and not see the obvious resemblance—the woman's eyes bore the same luminance and clarity as a clear, summer sky—the same color as his.

Pit cried out in alarm—then held his breath. After so many years of not knowing who his parents were, his mother was lying not even a foot away from him. For so long he had awaited this moment, but why couldn't he accept it as it was now? The feeling of rejection held him back, the fear that his mother didn't really want him even though had she held her child in her arms the whole night through . . .

"Pit, what's wrong?"

The amount of care, of compassion, that lingered in her voice finally pierced him. He was her _child._ And a hole that he had never realized was there was finally filled, and Pit broke, reaching for the one who he knew would sooth him and promise that it would be alright.

 **XXX**

And so it went.

Pit soon lost memory of anything beyond what wasn't between him and his mother. Smothering and teasing, Pit's mother seemed perfect in any and every way. It might've been because he'd never had any memory of having a mother before now . . . except for maybe Palutena . . .

Pit blinked. The name remained so familiar to his own mind. But he could not make out a face that belonged to it. Soon he merrily pushed the name out of his head again. It didn't sound more than a type of flower.

After delaying a pillow fight in order to make up the bed, the two raced each other to the kitchen, stomachs growling like crazy. As bacon and sausage sizzled on the skillet, the two sword fought with 2 individual butter knives. Pit was surprised at his mother's skill. Her footing was absolutely perfect. When Pit asked her where she learned to spar, her mother just gave him a confused, funny smile.

"We're only playing, Pit," she replied. "It's not like I've never received training or any such sort as that."

Training, she had said, saying the word so lightly Pit almost dismissed the whole conversation from his mind. But the word brought up so many other images with it that it wouldn't let go. A simple bow, deep blue and curved perfectly to match his size and grip. An open space, crowded with small men wearing hats with wings . . .

It was all so familiar but Pit couldn't place the name to any of them. The memories almost seemed wrong, belonging to another world, another time. Pit declared their match a draw, and went to the washing room to think. Going to the wash bin he splashed some water onto his face. _Snap out of it, Pit_ , he told himself. _Clear you mind of all of this nonsense._ He blinked the water away, feeling as though he had thoroughly scrubbed away his unwanted thoughts. But when he looked at his reflection in the water, he could swear that beyond his own bewildered look lay a smirk that was not his own, and a pair of violet-gold eyes that did not match his at all.

Pit stumbled back. His reflection was the same now, but would it always be this way? A name filled his mind right then— _Dark Pit._ Was this a dark manifestation of himself? Was _Dark Pit_ real, and if he was, was he the one giving him all of these false memories? Pit shook his head. No, it couldn't be. But when he thought this, he wasn't so sure.

He made way for the door, passing this mother in the kitchen. Now that he thought of it, their kitchen and the whole house resembled that of another place he's known before—complete with earthen dining table, open windows so that the natural light could pour in, and hanging potted plants at every corner—a lot like the Hanging Gardens. _Wait, what?_ Pit struggled to place where he had gotten that name from.

"Where are you going?" His mother asked him when he had almost reached the door.

"I'm going out, to clear my head," Pit replied. He could hardly keep his eyes trained on her. Was she real, or was she fake, too?

"But breakfast is almost ready. Baby, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Pit said, his voice thick, because he wished beyond everything that his mother was truly real. He went out the door, where the pre-summer daylight greeted him without an inkling of doubt.

 _Why am I surrounded with false memories?_ Pit thought to himself. _Everything around me feels so wrong . . ._ He felt like he should be here for a particular purpose, but he couldn't escape that bare trapped feeling inside of him. _But I'm not trapped,_ Pit said to himself sadly. _I have my mother, and I live in this wonderful house . . ._ Crowded around a wide square a community of houses met Pit with the most enticing of promises. Gathered were stone huts that looked much like Pit's own house; painted in bright colored of green, blue and pink. Rushing across the square was a multitude of children, both akin to his age and younger. Wearing bright clothes that matched the spirit of their homes, they chased each other and laughed with joy. It made Pit want to romp with them as well—tag was a game he hadn't played in years.

Pit stayed where he was. As real as everything seemed, he couldn't remember any past circumstance of it all. _No memory . . ._ Pit reflected. He closed his eyes. _Then what_ am _I doing here?_ He couldn't say how long he stood there, but for some reason he couldn't think of anything. All there was was the here and now . . .

 _But wait. If there's no memory, then how did I get here?_ His immediate response was that he had come from his mother, of course, but was his mother the only person he knew here? He thought of the embrace of another, his memory faint and distant, but somehow still there. He remembered the reflection he saw in the washroom, the reflection that smirked. _If these are memories, then those must be people I remember somehow. Those are people who are waiting for me._

 _How do I get out of here?_

The high tinkling of laughter made him open his eyes and turn to the left. Two children in particular caught his eye—amusing themselves at the base of a fountain, they led little leaves fashioned into toy boats to coast on the other side of the wide fountain. One of them, a little dark haired girl of about six clapped her hands in amusement. The boy next to her, about eight of nine, smiled down at her fondly. Pit had no doubt that the boy was the other one's brother, and the scene of such familial love was so unique to the angel that he just stood there, head to the side in open curiosity.

A loud voice from the fountain's left jerked Pit put of his daydream at once. The voice, spoken in a very different tongue, was both brusque and tender at the same time. It was a voice that could deceive without trouble. But the children by the pond who heard the voice knew exactly what the tone implied. They looked over their shoulders to the small sky blue house, and out walked their mother; a small but stern looking woman, with light brown skin and sharp eyes like a bird's.

The mother called out again, and the children went out to her, ashamed; their heads down, they followed their mother as she went around the back. Pit followed, not knowing why he felt the need to. The mother led them into a sort of door in the ground, with padlocked doors. Pit paused, waiting a few moments to let them get the head start after unlocking the doors until he was sure they were deep enough under the house that he could peer from above without notice.

When he finally did look down, however, what came to greet him brought a creeping chill up his spine. Why were they brought to a place so dark and isolated?—all he could see were the few declining steps from the place where the doors first began. But he could still hear voices . . . the mother, shouting markedly, poignantly, and the children murmuring their solemn reply . . . cries from the children below, as the thud of flesh sounded dully . . . one of them collapsed on the floor, and Pit could hear it, hear it all, and his eyes blurred with tears. It was terrifying—this noise, the sound of children crying. It left a terrific ringing in his ears. It was worse not being able to see them down there. _Mothers aren't like that,_ Pit thought, stumbling backwards. _Mothers aren't like that._ . . . or they aren't supposedto be, anyway. But how would he know? It wasn't like he had one . . .

Pit reeled away from the open doors and gasped, the same moment a malicious slap from below ended a child's cry. _The boy,_ Pit thought to himself, blinking rapidly as tears threatened again. It was the boy who just got slapped by his mother. His mother wasn't supposed to hit him—wasn't supposed to hit him or his sister. _I need to get help, and wake up from this state of shock_ , he thought, picking himself from off the ground. He needed to get up and get some help, or help them himself. _That's what I'll do,_ he decided. He would go and help himself, before it became too late—

The girl's voice rose and covered over the outside world. Pit was alone, grieving for the sister within her pitiful and grievous sobbing. "¡ _Ayudame!"_ She sobbed raucously, desperately. _"Mi hermano—¡Lo mataste! ¡Lo mataste!"_

Pit struggled with himself. _Too late . . . too late . . ._

He thought of his mother. He didn't want to go home now. He couldn't bear to think of comfort as this little girl was crying.

 _"¿Por qué, mama? ¿Por qué, por qué?"_

 _How do I get out of here?_ Pit had asked.

 _"Do you know why you cannot identify my weakness? It is because you do not know my history, child."_

 **XxX**

Pit opened his eyes.

But he couldn't see anything.

He wasn't met by the pre-summer morning he had woken up to earlier. He got the feeling that he was floating in a space not controlled by gravity. He didn't like it. He much rather be flying.

 _Flying? Where did that come from?_ He was suddenly hit by the sense of freedom that it was; wind coursing through his hair, his clothes, and rippling through his wings— _Wings! How cool!_ Pit laughed to himself. _What a wonderful memory!_ Helaughed and laughed and laughed, until his sides were hurting and his facial muscles ached, because there was no one to hear him in the sky where he flew.

Soon he was crying.

 _All of these memories,_ Pit thought. "Where do they come from?"

He was out of his memory now. His voice sounded small and sad in the wide, airless room he floated in. He decided to go on with what he knew.

He knew that he had a mother. Not one with wings, he didn't think, but if he thought back on it, he wasn't even sure if he had been given wings in his first memory anyway. But in his second memory . . . "Palutena . . ." The name held something of a promise of another mother he had had. But how could he have two mothers?

He decided to move on.

 _Hanging Gardens._ It was place, and that was all he knew. Skyworld was a place, he remembered suddenly, a place where he could fight and train and had protected many times over. _And could fly,_ Pit thought again, because he didn't like it when he talked and there was no one to hear him.

 _Dark Pit . . ._ He didn't even know what to make out of that one. He decided to leave it a mystery.

He dug through his first memories, the ones that seemed more real. His mother was pretty and blond, and had blue eyes that matched his. Pit wished she was there right now.

But then things had seemed wrong. Different . . . than they should've been. He had gone outside. He had seen children, and two of them in particular. Pit shook his head. No, he didn't want to think about that right now. But before that he had wished himself away from that place, from the place that didn't seem real. Then had come the memory of the children and their mother. Had the memory somehow had been his key to finding his way out of here?

Pit thought through the memory again, as painful as it was. The words that were spoke were gibberish to him, but some clarity had sprung from his mind after the horrible incident, words that had not been his own. . .

 _"Do you know why you cannot identify my weakness? It is because you do not know my history, child."_

And then suddenly he remembered.

The correct memories fell into place then, stacking one on top of the other like lego toys.

"Your children were never taken from you," Pit said aloud, knowing somehow he wasn't alone. "You killed them yourself. You must have . . . gone crazy or something, and you called your children into the basement where you finally . . . beat them to death." There was no mistaking the woman that he had seen luring the children into the house, with long black hair and eyes like the night, shouting obscenities and cursing at them for things that they hadn't done. Or maybe they had done something? Pit didn't wish to find out. All he knew was that this type of murder was one of the most terrible things any one could do, especially to one of their own blood.

"How _dare_ you say such a thing about me?" The Woman was here, somewhere, he knew, but he could not see where she was. It was still too dark. "I loved my children more than you could ever know!"

"No, you didn't." Pit said the words with struggle. He tugged at a memory that he knew was fake, one that he knew The Woman had fabricated for him to fall deeper and deeper into blissful happiness. "When your children heard your name, they came to you as if they expected what was going to happen. You . . . you must have beat them often. You stole something away from them that was lost when you became their mother."

 _Something that everyone should have,_ Pit completed in his mind.

"You don't know anything, you silly angel," The Woman spat at him. "I only wanted the best for my children—I wanted them to be the best they could be. And when they couldn't meet that standard—"

"You hit them?" Pit curiously finished.

"I corrected them," The Woman said instead, but her voice was faltering, as if not believing what she said. And Pit could see why; she was sugarcoating her words, to the point where she could hardly stand to believe them herself. She was so close to the truth.

"And when they messed up another time," Pit countered, " _You made sure they never messed up again?"_

"No," The Woman said, despair in her tone. "My beautiful children . . . Maia, Jaime . . ."

"Jaime was the first one you killed," Pit said. He didn't know where this courage was coming from, but he spoke with certainty, and he listened as the words tumbled out of his mouth. "I didn't see it, but it was clear enough. How long after that did you end up killing your little girl? Was she afraid of you after that? Could she even talk to you? To anybody?"

"The pain I suffered through," The Woman muttered. "The pain I went through, trying to find them—"

"I bet she trusted you, once. I bet she thought you loved her and comforted her and . . . accepted her. But you ended up losing it, didn't you? You set the bar too high, and grew worse and worse every time they failed to meet it."

"No," The Woman said. Her voice was everywhere at once, echoing around the empty space even though Pit was sure there were any walls. " _No!"_

"But it's the truth," Pit said with finality. "And now it's time to face the light."

Gravity kicked in. Pit was falling, falling through the empty expanse and nothingness that he had found himself trapped in. The Woman's voice echoed off of walls, showering the room with a noise that seemed to have no end. The wings of his feathers whistled below his spread arms uselessly, small white feathers floating above him as they detached themselves. He zoomed downward, lightning fast, but he didn't feel afraid. Somehow he knew that the memories The Sea Witch had gifted him with were dreams, and that he was now in the space between spaces that separated dreams from reality.

He had been here for a purpose. And his mother wasn't real.

Pit prepared himself to wake up. He realized that he wouldn't remember his mother when he woke up. He had never felt especially connected to his dreams when sleeping normally; whenever he woke up, he could never remember them, no matter how deep they had been. But he could try.

 _My mother isn't real . . ._

The Woman's voice grew fainter and fainter and Pit kept on falling through the empty space. Vaguely he noticed that the empty space was getting lighter, dispelling the shadows one ray at a time. The light felt like the sun, the best sort of light there was. He couldn't see The Woman in the fast dispersing darkness.

He felt older somehow. He thought he was living a life that was real; figuring out that all he had known was a fake felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under him. He wanted to think that The Woman had given some type of hope to hold on too; that the fake memory of his mother reflected some part of her that had actually been real. All lies are based off of some truth, he told himself. He wanted to tell himself that the mother from his dream really was his. What if his mother had hair like sweet summer honey? What if he had gotten his eyes from his mother? _There had been so much hope in them_ , Pit thought. _So much hope and wanting and love_.

Closing his eyes again, he fell peacefully, letting the sun's rays warm him and wrap him, like a soft, warm hand. He tried to think of his mother as hard and as long as possible before he knew he had to wake up.

 **XxX**

Pit was no longer underwater.

The Atlantic Army had found him the next morning in the Abyss, where Pit had first met The Sea Witch. He, as well as the other children that The Woman had lured into her clutches, had been there too. Like him, they were all found to be fast asleep, snoring and dreaming as if nothing had happened. The Woman was nowhere to be found.

It was a relief that he had been found before the power of the pearls had run out. Actually, according to Palutena, there had been another 48 hours on it, but she had decided that enough was enough, and to cut their short trip even shorter.

Palutena didn't tell him all of this until Pit woke up a couple of nights after. Blinking his eyes in the moonlit dark, he found himself sitting in his room in the dormitories of Palutena's Temple. He was no longer underwater, and something about that made him feel as though a larger affect should've been had on him, but it never came. He didn't think one would, actually . . . the whole adventure was still trying to impose itself upon him, and Pit didn't want to forget a single part of it. The friendly Sea God, Nereus, and the chilling sea enchantress that was The Woman. But there was a gap in his memory, he knew; the journey to Abyss, for instance, or the very reason they had gone to the Seafloor Palace in the first place. Was The Woman defeated? Pit sure hoped so.

 _"That still . . . doesn't explain why I can't defeat you. You're not a god, but you're still . . . an enemy. A follower of . . . darkness."_

 _"Silly angel. Can't you see? I am mother to all. No one can resist the sweet lullaby of the one who gave birth to them. And you most of all, who never knew your mother, landed right in my clutches. Oh, silly angel."_

 _"Sleep, child. Let my dream bring you a peace you never knew while you were awake . . ."_

The Sea Witch' words echoed in Pit's consciousness tauntingly, bidding and goading him to remember. Pit clutched his pillow. He tried-he tried to remember so hard that it hurt. The Woman was defeated—why else would he be here? Even so, Pit didn't feel satisfied. He barely even felt accomplished. He wanted to know _how_ he had defeated her, but instead he felt burdened with dead weight, the emotion of guilt and terrifying loss clawing away at his heart.

 _But guilt for what?_ Oh, gods, he couldn't remember. _And what have I lost?_ He knew he had lost something dreadfully important, but the memory just wouldn't come to him . . .

The rest of the night Pit cried, and he wouldn't have been able to tell you why if you had asked him.

 **XxX**

 **A/N: Hm . . . powerful Sea God, evil Sea Enchantress, trying to gain her power from the main child of the story . . . I feel as though I've just created The Little Mermaid all over again.**

 **Ooh! And La Llorona!**

Anyway, I still haven't mentioned this, and I thought it past time that I did: That you to those who've reviewed so far! Your anticipation for the story matches my excitement for you to read what I've got planned! I won't let you down :D


	7. Pandora's Box

" _ **You filthy little nothing!" –**_ **Viridi to Dark Pit, in The Rewind Spring**

 **A/N: Another adventure chapter! Oooh, this should be fun!**

 **XxX**

Dark Pit let the Power of Flight run through his wings and take him into the air as he jumped off the flying platform at the Hanging Gardens. Viridi had teleported herself back to her fortress moments ago, and Dark Pit had taken the initiative.

 _"Whoa there!"_ Viridi shouted at Dark Pit. _"I almost didn't catch you. Can't you wait a minute for me to get my bearings before you go jumping off buildings?!"_

Dark Pit smiled slightly. He didn't think he could help himself. He'd always been one for taking risks. Besides, he was glad for a little reprieve from working all day with Arlon.

The climate today was surprisingly cool and windy. Little armies of white clouds made their way across the afternoon sky, grayish white despite the summer season. The clouds made shadows on the open space he flew over, making the area seem strangely shrouded and ominous.

 _"Anyway, Pit and Palutena still aren't back from their little "adventure" down on the Seafloor,"_ Viridi continued. _"But one of my Forces of Nature came back with reports of the Overworld."_

"News of Pyrrhon?" Dark Pit had spent many an hour trying to contain Pyrrhon and his ferocious dragon contained in the forest where they had first fell to. It hadn't been easy, but with the help of the Forces of Nature, he had managed to build a sort of moat around the area. It hadn't been perfect, but the two powerful beings (even with the power of flight) seemed content to stick to the area they had been and were content enough to just destroy all life there. The thought had devastated Viridi at first, when the plan had been brought up by Arlon the first time, but eventually it was easy to make her see that this was the best course of action to take until the necklaces were done.

 _"Not of Pyrrhon,"_ Viridi said, breaking Dark Pit from his thoughts. _"Though, according to my most recent reports, he is still accepting containment through the moat you built. No, this is news of another kind. Suspicious wind irregularities have presented itself through a particular area. The terrain surrounding it are really feeling the strain, holding itself against occurrences such as tornadoes and dust devils."_

"Oh no, not the terrain," Dark Pit said with fake sympathy. The area they happened to be making their way towards was filled with grassy hills dotted with smaller underbrush and other white, fluffy things that looked like sheep; the little white dots moving like clouds against a dark green sky. "Tell me, did the trees make it?"

 _"Not funny, Dark Pit,"_ Viridi said. _"This is serious. The product of these strong winds almost feel unnatural. Just, not in the way Aurum Pyrrhon feels unnatural . . ."_

Viridi continued to mutter to herself, and Dark Pit forced himself to block out her comments and inquisitions. His mind flipped to the incident down at the jungle with Eden, the wood nymph. Surely it couldn't be another Dark Magic incident? Dark Pit hoped it wasn't.

Presently the angel closed down on the open field that he had spied from above. Nice enough to be a park, the trees around the clearing grew tall and long, and swayed with the wind in one solitary direction. Sheep still dotted the countryside, chewing and wandering harmlessly. An abandoned wooden house stood a little ways from the crowd of sheep; its doors flung open and its windows non-existent. As Dark Pit's feet touched the ground and the Power of Flight departed from him, he could sense some concentrated force where he stood. Slowly he walked to the center of the clearing, where the pressure of the air seemed to drop and the wind grew only stronger.

Dark lines formed with thick paint framed his way to the center of the circle. In between each of the lines were small indications of images and symbols. Crescent moons, rayed suns and eight pointed stars surrounded him, the spaces between them barely enough room for Dark Pit to stand with his feet side by side.

 _"A Pentagon,"_ Viridi mentioned, and Dark Pit thought it made sense. _"Someone is trying to raise something evil and unnatural at the center of it—Dark Pit, you have to stop them!"_

Of course, that was easier said than done, when the center of the Pentagon seemed miles away and the dropped pressure of the space made Dark Pit feel as though he was going in slow motion. His ears popped, the wind was enough to blind him, and it was all he could do to not scream out in frustration. He clutched at them, as the pressure dropped even lower.

His brain felt like it was going in reverse. He couldn't think of anything beyond the dropping pressure. His eyes kept on getting irritated from the wind pounding constantly at his face; to stop rubbing at them he just resorted to closing his eyes. Blind to what was ahead of him, he could still sense that something sinister was going on in the center of the field . . . something otherworldly and unknown and probably destructive . . .

Dark Pit moved on, and with every step he took the force in the middle of the Pentagram sent another jarring force to rip him from where he stood. But Dark Pit held his ground. Not even when flying debris of every sort came clawing at his _chiton_ did he stop moving.

Prying open his eyes, when he felt he had moved considerable distance, Dark Pit could make out what it was he was moving towards. And what he saw at the edges of his vision wasn't something he was too happy about.

 _"Another windstorm,"_ Viridi said, enthusiasm completely nonexistent from her voice. A small one, tiny from the distance and fat enough to make fun of, but her words reflected exactly how Dark Pit felt. This wind was already kicking his butt—he didn't think he could weather a freaking tornado . . .

But he would have to try. Whatever was threatening to unleash itself would be even worse than the suspicious wind anomalies that were already making themselves present.

The small tornado still pretty far off, Dark Pit felt exhaustion pulling at his legs and feet. He thought that a very nice nap sounded good right about then, or maybe a day off at the hot springs where he could soak and massage his feet in peace. "Do you think I could just shoot it, then?" Dark Pit asked, not without consequence. A blast of wind made itself welcome in his mouth, and for a second he thought he had lost his breath. Struggling against hyperventalization, he made an attempt to breathe normally again.

 _"I don't believe a simple bow would do it, though—Dark Pit, are you choking?"_

Dark Pit didn't exactly have the breath to confirm her words.

 _"Dark Pit, you—ugh."_ Viridi searched around for some type of anecdote. _"You can't imagine how insulting it would be if my best captain got beat up by a couple of strong gales—"_

"Don't worry, I'm alright." Dark Pit's voice was muffled. He had covered his mouth with his scarf, and had wrapped it and tied it at the back of his head so he wouldn't find it flying off when he most needed it. "You won't be losing your _best captain_ for quite some time now."

 _"You—you just—ugh!"_ Viridi was flustered beyond belief. _"B-besides, you're my_ only _captain, dumbass!"_

Dark Pit smirked, his mouth hidden by his scarf. "Anyway, it's a good thing that I'm not actually carrying a bow. But I do—" he grabbed his Sonic Cannon from behind him, and equipped it with flourish and ease—"have this."

" _Good idea,"_ Viridi said. _"You may want to wait until you're a little closer, though—"_

Dark Pit didn't want to wait. The Sonic Cannon happened to be perfect for this type of combat—long ranged and excellent homing ability whose shots expanded and grew as they gained distance. Dark Pit braced himself to fire, and was hit by the sharp noise that the cannon made when he dashed to the right—before he realized that the sharp bang had not come from his weapon, but from another one altogether.

Dark Pit whirled around. No, he was positive this time—there was no projectile heading towards the target he had intended. The noise must have come from a different place. His eyes landed on the dilapidated house at the edge of the field. No one would have been able to hit him from that far—no one, except someone with a sniper and with an exceptionally good eye . . .

"Do you believe that shot was meant to be a miss, little angel?"

The sniper went off again, but this time Dark Pit had the sense to duck for cover with the only possible shield that was around—the sheep. He held the small mammal still with two hands, and it sounded its discontentment with a sharp _bleat._

Dark Pit thought. The voice was clearer than Dark Pit could imagine, even in the snapping wind and bleating sheep from around him. There was no doubt in his mind now; there was someone in there, inside that house, trying to kill him.

"Those were just warning shots," the voice called out. "Sterling can see you from far away, and the way your leg sticks from underneath the little wall of wool you have gotten for yourself there. Oh, yes, he does."

 _"Stupid humans,"_ Viridi muttered. " _Always getting in the way!"_

"Sheep are not very good cover," said the one who called himself Sterling. His voice was light and taunting and confident.

"At least I'll have something to shield me if you try to shoot again!" Dark Pit called out. "Who are you?"

"Sterling has been called the Assassin of the West Province," the voice called. "He sells pretty angels' wings like yours for a very pretty coin."

Sterling fired again, and Dark Pit's sheep bleated painfully before collapsing to the ground. The angel shot up, unharmed, springing to the next available source of cover. Unsurprisingly, it was another sheep.

"Have you ever heard of this guy before?" Dark Pit whispered rashly.

" _I don't concern myself with learning the names of puny humans_ ," Viridi hissed, offended. " _As a matter of fact, no god really does. There's just too many of them. Like cockroaches_."

"I would think they're a bit more pleasant to have around than cockroaches," Dark Pit replied lazily.

" _Don't sound so sure,"_ Viridi rejoined. " _They reproduce and die just the same way. And when they die, they all come together the same way a cockroach does. But at least a cockroach gives something to its ecosystem."_

"And what's that?" Dark Pit asked.

 _"Food for toads,"_ Viridi said promptly.

Sterling shot again, and the second sheep gave a strong bleat. Dark Pit was off before the sheep hit the ground, taking refuge in the next small wall of white wool.

" _Oh, those poor sheep,"_ Viridi said.

"A LITTLE HELP HERE!" yelled Dark Pit.

"The little angel is scared," Sterling called from his perch within the house. "He forgets, Sterling does not miss. That is not a very good thing to forget quite so easily, little angel."

" _He's just toying with you,"_ Viridi told him, but Dark Pit could've figured that one out himself. The tornado in the center of the clearing had risen to full momentum now. It seemed like whatever was going on over there was about to explode, set to release its full strength to Dark Pit and the assassin and the rest of the poor sheep.

"I have to stop that thing from happening," Dark Pit murmured.

" _You have your cannon,"_ Viridi said. " _Blow something up!"_

Dark Pit couldn't help but think that maybe it wasn't as easy as that; if he made a move to attack, the assassin would have him.

Of course, the angel thought, he could just be bluffing. Dark Pit wanted to believe in that one, most of all.

"The angel seems to be talking to himself," Sterling said, and Dark Pit was getting sick of him narrating his every move as if he were some deer on Animal Planet. "But Sterling knows it speaks to his goddess. Who is your goddess, little angel?"

Sterling's sniper went off with another BANG!, but Dark Pit did not dodge to the other sheep like Sterling might have expected. Instead he crouched, covering himself as best as he could with the dying sheep, as he equipped himself with his Sonic Cannon.

"I have no goddess!" Dark Pit shouted. "I serve no one but myself!"

He fired.

The house went boom.

Soon it was raining splinters, some of the larger pieces on fire like old matches. Wood was everywhere, the burst of destruction almost reaching the spot where Dark Pit crouched with his sheep, but that was alright with him. Whether the assassin was dead or not, he activated his Back Shield power, and dodged past the line of sheep that were heading away from the cannon's blast and towards the tornado.

But by that time, it was already too late.

The tornado had finally built so much momentum that it eventually exploded. Dark Pit was knocked down by the blast, rolling over to the side so his head would not be subject to the tornado's expanse. The sheep were not as fortunate as Dark Pit ended up being. They bleated as their little legs flew up in the air, and little bodies of wool were carried several feet into the air and displaced back on the ground haphazardly before the tornado had finished its destruction.

Dark Pit rolled several times before coming to a halt. His shield had taken on the bulk on the impact. Beyond his little circle of grass, there was little left of the grassy clearing to be seen; instead of trees, only tree trunks; where there had been grass, there was only charred remains; and debris from the house and the fallen tree branches were strewn everywhere.

And, in the center of it all, sat a big, heavy looking box, still shut, and a girl sitting atop it, legs crossed. From where Dark Pit crouched, he could see that she was brown skinned and clothed in yellows and oranges. She looked unharmed, Dark Pit thought, and unconcerned that she had been standing in the middle of a great windstorm.

Dark Pit sprang up from the ground, and started making his way towards where the tornado had been. The back shield power deactivated and the angel was soon on his own, but the girl didn't seem to notice him. She was focused on something different. She had turned her head towards the house in shambles, and Dark Pit watched in disbelief as her face lit up with glee, and giggled.

"I should thank you, Sterling of the West Provinces, for your help." The girl had a flirtatious way of talking that mingled smoothly her accent, Middle Eastern or Indian, if Dark Pit could guess correctly. "Distracting the angel so I could finished my ritual that would release my _venti._ You deserve a reward."

Dark Pit cursed inwardly. Only a god would speak like that.

"Sterling requires no reward from the likes of a god," Sterling replied. Dark Pit turned his gaze to the now-demolished building, wincing as he did. He _would_ still be alive, Dark Pit thought. Picking his way through yellow patches of grass and piece of charred wood, the assassin had more on Dark Pit than he would've at first assumed. He was tall, taller than most humans, Dark Pit thought. He wore an outfit of deep blue, his pants of the tight fitting variety under a lighter, looser tunic with a black sash at his waist and a clasp at his shoulders. His arms weren't bare, though; they were laced with tattoos with pictures and symbols that Dark Pit did not know the meaning of. Dark Pit thought he aged pretty well; the age that Dark Pit would judge him most by being 42, and, if were asked to guess, would go down in years from there. With deeply tanned skin, a hard, angular face, and a long, sharp nose, Dark Pit figured that if he resided in the Overworld, he wouldn't put it upon himself to ever- _ever-_ mess with this man. Dark Pit smirked. It was a good thing he was an angel, then, and not of the Overworld, at all. The man's white blue eyes glared at the goddess now. "Whatever Sterling did, he did for himself."

"Oh, but the mortal must want something," the girl said to him. She had swung herself from atop the large metal box now, and was sauntering her way towards him. Sterling looked at her in half bewilderment and half disgust; Dark Pit could've been a sheep, for all the attention he was getting. When she had approached Sterling, Dark Pit found that she was short and curvy, though from where she was at, looked at least to be 25 or so. Her black hair that ended in a bob around her ears positively bounced whenever she moved.

"Perhaps you would like me to strike down this angel so you may sell his wings for the price you prefer?" the brown skinned girl asked when Sterling did not answer.

So maybe Dark Pit wasn't as ignored as he had originally thought. "No angels are getting struck down today," Dark Pit called. "Viridi, who is this chick?"

"No one knows who I am," the girl replied, still looking at Sterling, a teasing smirk still on her face. "I am a goddess old and new; here and not."

 _"Yeah, Dark Pit, I'm running a blank,"_ said Viridi unhelpfully. _"She must not be that important in the heirachy of things."_

"I am important!" said the new goddess, hands on her hips like a petulant child.

" _Then what do you do, huh, O mighty one?"_ Viridi asked with a smirk. _"What's your specialty?"_

With a flash of what looked like small, red diamonds, the girl disappeared and appeared a moment later directly in front of Dark Pit, a full twenty feet from where she had been. "I am Jana, the trickster goddess. You should be quite scared."

"Unfortunately, that's not my first reaction whenever I meet some new divine being," said Dark Pit, sneering. Her silly quips and attempt at flirting was getting her nowhere. He leveled his Cannon directly at her chest, his voice serious. "I don't care who you are, but I do care about what you're doing. You do _know_ what you're doing here, don't you?"

" _You're tampering with the laws of Nature,"_ Viridi seethed. " _Or, in other words, messing with MY rules."_

"You need to stop," Dark Pit said.

The girl blinked, looking down at the Cannon poised at her chest. "Or . . . what?"

"What do you think?"

Jana made a small yelping noise, and blinked out of existence with a sprinkling of red diamonds once more. The next think Dark Pit knew, she was standing in front of the man Sterling again. "You do not wish to make the request of me?" the girl squeaked to Sterling. Her eyebrows arched way atop her forehead playfully.

"Why do you ask of Sterling all of these different questions?" he asked, tilting his head in wonder. "It wouldn't be because . . . no. A god? Such a thing . . . but if it's true?" He gave a smile of mischief. "Who can know?"

"What are you trying to say?" Jana demanded.

Sterling gave a coy smile. "Why, Sterling has reason to believe that you may not possess your powers that come with your divinity. That someone took them away from you, due to a service or favor that you owe. You can't strike him down yourself." Sterling's smile grew.

"Yes I can!" the girl Jana said petulantly, stomping her foot. "I just—I need someone to say I can." She spread her arms. "I do not have the authority over my own powers, like I desire, but when ordered to do so by someone other than me—"

"Wait, what?" Dark Pit said, still a good distance away from the conversation but quite close enough to interrupt. "What are you talking about?"

"I have plenty of power!" Jana said, her cat eyes narrowing. "I do not need your help to squish this puny angel!"

"Hey! I resent that!" Dark Pit shouted. "I'm taller than you!"

"It should be that way, no?" Sterling murmured. "But instead, your powers are only deemed accessible if someone requires it of you." He glanced over to the box-chest at the edge of the clearing. "That's why you unearthed Pandora's Box."

Jana crossed her arms. "For a human who does not heed to power of the gods, you know a great deal about them."

Sterling grinned, and his smile was wicked.

"Pandora's Box?" Dark Pit said aloud to no one in particular. "What's that?"

" _I have absolutely no idea, but I have the feeling we're being ignored over here. Blow something up,"_ Viridi said.

"HEY! Will someone tell me what the hell Pandora's Box is?" Dark Pit yelled, a little louder this time. Jana and Sterling turned to him as if they had forgotten he was still there. Dark Pit blinked, surprised at actually receiving their attention. "You know, just so I have a starting point of why I should kill you?" He held up the Sonic Cannon a little, to further give them reason to remember that he was, in fact, a threat.

"You should kill him," Sterling said, smirking down at the goddess. "You know, if he's going to be in the way. Crush him with all your divine might. Oh, except—you can't. Not unless Sterling asks you to."

"Shut up!" Jana complained, stomping towards the big box. "I can make the angel scream for his life if I wished. I am not subject to a mortal's whims! _Aperi!"_

Just then, the latch of the heavy looking box flung open, and invisible strands of energy made its way out. Though they were invisible, Dark Pit was confident that the thing that had been in the large chest had been released—specifically because Dark Pit was fighting against the effects of it right now.

"Get _down!"_ Dark Pit heard Sterling shout. But it was too late. The angel was knocked down, flat on his back. A whirlwind of malicious wind forces stormed his nostrils.

"Not so tough now, huh, angel?" Jana cried out mockingly. "With these winds, I'll finally be able to show the gods who's boss here—with or without powers!"

Dark Pit rolled on his back and covered his ears. The winds coming out from the Box behind him were coming out in full, more powerful than the tornado from earlier. It seemed to take forever. Before him, he could still see sheep _baa-_ ing in confusion, some being lifted up in the air despite the better part of their body density. Trees that lined the clearing were being pulled out by their roots, and leaves whipped in all directions.

"You will _rue_ the day you taunted me, you worthless angel!" Jana shouted over the roar of the winds.

"You know, _I_ wasn't the one who was taunted you," Dark Pit muttered, trying to find his bearings. "It was the other guy."

Dark Pit wasn't sure if the goddess heard him, but at last, the winds seemed to die down enough for Dark Pit to get to his feet. He dusted himself off, turning slowly to see what was left of the Box—to find Jana staring directly at him, a venomous glare upon her features.

"It is truth," Sterling said, coming to stand. "You are not all that good at being a goddess at all."

"Shut up!" Jana shouted ineffectively.

"He has a point, though," Dark Pit put in, shouldering his Canon. "I could just destroy you right where you stand."

"Oh, you wouldn't _dare!"_ Said Jana, and in the blink of an eye, she disappeared again in another flash of red diamonds.

Dark Pit and Sterling were speechless.

 _"Well, that just happened."_ Viridi announced.

The box was still open. Though they had deserted the clearing, for all Dark Pit knew, those crazy-ass spirits were still on the loose, wreaking havoc in the name of some goddess who didn't know how to do her job.

"The goddess has gone," said a voice from Dark Pit's right, "but Sterling has not gotten what he has come for yet."

Dark Pit turned his head slowly—to find Sterling, not 50 feet away from him. The assassin was pulling a couple of wicked looking knives from within the inner compartments of his paramilitary belt.

"Seriously, though?" Dark Pit said. "A freaking goddess just tried to blow us _up!_ I don't know about you, but I feel like going home and taking a nap."

" _Good idea, keep talking until I can beam you away from here,"_ Viridi said in his ear.

"Would it be okay if I tried moving at all?" Dark Pit murmured. "I don't like having weapons being pointed at me."

" _This isn't effing Star Trek, jack-ass,"_ Viridi said, sourly. " _I'm not Chekov. Stay where you are."_

"The angel is talking with his matron goddess once again," Sterling said. He seemed to be stalling for time as much as he was. His voice was light but wary. "The angel never told Sterling which goddess he works for."

"If I tell you, will you stop aiming that thing at me?"

"Probably not." Sterling gave him one of his cold grins. "Sterling just wonders, before he kills you."

"Oh. That's too bad," Dark Pit said, pretending to be defeated. He threw his hands up in the air. "I guess you've got me!"

 _"What are you doing, you dumb-tard?"_ Viridi hissed at him. " _I said stall, not surrender!"_

"You're going to have to figure out a better way of getting me out of here," Dark Pit replied. "Because I've run out of ideas!" And with that, he dodged to the side, just missing Sterling's knife.

Dark Pit sat up from the ground, looking towards his opponent. Sterling still had one knife left, as far as he could see—and the weapon looked wicked sharp. Sterling paced towards him, slowly, as if he were approaching a timid deer. Dark Pit didn't think he quite appreciated that. He still had his Cannon equipped, but even then, he wasn't too comfortable with the position that put him in. Sterling could be fast—his throwing arm would move just as fast as he pulled the trigger—and then Dark Pit would be injured.

But then Sterling would have a face full of Cannon.

" _Nope, nope, nope!"_ Viridi said, trying to beam him up again. Her heavenly light began to surround the angel with a scent like bees in the summer. " _I've had enough of you, good looking or not!"_

"Leaving so soon, little angel?" Sterling had his hand flicked back now, his other hand poised and ready to throw.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Dark Pit began, "but—wait, what? You think this guy's good looking?"

" _It doesn't matter what I think! I need to get you out of here!"_

"Angels can be so confusing, yes," Sterling said, witnessing only one half of the conversation. "Sterling really hopes you were referring to your god."

"Goddesses, yes, I was," Dark Pit said, holding up his hands in front of him in defense. "No homo! I sw— _whoop!"_

Dark Pit didn't have time to declare the rest of his straightness, for right when Viridi had beamed him back up to the Hanging Gardens, Sterling had released the knife from his hand.

XXX

The assassin's knife clattered to the ground, not a foot away from him. Dark Pit knelt down to examine it, never seeing a blade quite like that one. The curved metal was double edged, and had black markings on each side, all the characters on its surface not making a lick of sense.

"Cool," Dark Pit said, twirling it neatly in his fingertips.

"Are you okay?" Viridi asked him, jogging from the room adjacent.

"Yeah. The knife was inches from my chest—close call."

"I'll say. Who knew assassins would be so skilled?"

"I know . . . he survived that Cannon blast. That should've killed him, for sure."

"He and Jana seemed to have been well acquainted," Viridi commented. "There was a suspicious amount of sexual tension between them." She made a face.

"Oh, don't lie; you didn't like seeing them together because you wanted Sterling to yourself."

"Don't be gross!" Viridi said, but her cheeks were turning red. Dark Pit gave her an incredulous smirk, and Viridi made a face at him. "Whatever. We need to get this information to Palutena. Maybe she'll know something on this "Jana" character—and about this thing called Pandora's Box."

XXX

 **A/N: I'm so HAPPY with this story idea! I hated the way this chapter was going to turn out before! Yay! The things you can come up with sitting bored in Trig class!**

 **I'm not completely sure why I made Sterling talk in the third person, but he's not going to be modeled after Pyrrhon in anyway! I think my original character idea stemmed from Jaqen H'ghar, from the** _ **Song of Ice and Fire**_ **series** _ **,**_ **by George R. R. Martin, because I imagined Jaqen to be unbelievably sexy with his hair and his foreign-ness. Ahem. Anyway. Not sure if you think Sterling is as unbelievable sexy as I think him to be, but I like him for more than his muscles and tattoos.**

 **. . .**

 **I** _ **promise,**_ **I do.**

 **Please review, and tell me what you think of my newest and third most favorite OC, Sterling! Oh, and you can review about Jana too, if you want, but mostly Sterling! Yay!**


	8. Aftermath

_**"Come on now, think about it. If I was a copy, why would I kick my own butt?"**_ **\- Dark Pit, in Chapter 6,** _ **Dark Pit**_

 **A/N:** **What? Another chapter? What a pleasant surprise!**

 **I normally wouldn't wait a week to post another chapter, since I'm trying to get this story all out by the end of my summer break. But, I was on vacation, living it up in Viva Las Vegas, and had absolutely no time to post beforehand. So, here we are, with a bonus chapter! Yay!**

 **Here's to all my readers thus far, Chapter 8: _Aftermath._ It's a dialogue chapter more than anything, but shows the beginning of an actual PLOT in the story! From here on out, things should be moving along quite smoothly...hope you all enjoy!**

 **XXX**

Palutena stared outside at the fading light regretfully. She would be amiss if she hadn't hoped before that Skyworld didn't have a setting sun. After being up for such an exceedingly long time, it seemed unnatural that the sun go down now. It gave her a feeling of unease at seeing it set after spending a day and a half underwater. She hoped that her misgivings didn't mean anything.

Pit was still sleeping when Viridi came to visit. She didn't know how much longer he would sleep after his encounter with the Woman; he had been her target victim, the most prone to her dark and terrible powers. Of course, the Power of Dreaming hadn't been found out until Nereus and Palutena had gone to the Abyss to search for him; there, they were led by the other children under the Woman's spell to the place where they had been kept. But Pit hadn't been among the ones who had awoken when The Woman had been defeated, and Palutena was compelled to take him home back to Skyworld right then and there.

"This is wrong," Palutena said, taking up the angel into her arms. "He should be awake by now." The way his head lolled to the side and his mouth hung slightly open reminded her of the time when he had almost killed himself to save Dark Pit from the Chaos Kin. Palutena shivered at the memory. She had been devastated to see Pit so scorched and torn; the way his eyes were closed instead of bright and alive like usual had moved her beyond nothing else. "Why isn't he awake?"

"I'm sure he'll wake up soon," Nereus said, coming to stand next her. He put a hand to muss up Pit's head fondly; her stomach had tightened with vaguely concealed disgust. "He has to," Nereus breathed. "He still owes me that sparring lesson."

Palutena spun at him. "Pit doesn't _have_ to do anything," Palutena said with malice. " _You_ did this to him—goaded him into doing this for you, just because you couldn't do it yourself."

Nereus looked betrayed. "I _couldn't_ do it myself. None of my men could. Pit was the only one—tell me you're not still angry about this."

She wasn't. She had just felt the need to blame someone for Pit's lack of consciousness. Palutena suddenly felt ashamed. She bit her lip, not trusting herself to talk again.

Nereus must have read her thoughts. "It's fine," he said quietly. "You're worried, that's all." When Palutena didn't answer, he went on, "You two can stay at my Palace until he recovers, if you wish. The pearls are almost set to run out, but I would be willing—"  
"I don't think that would be necessary," Palutena said. "Pit would be more comfortable if he woke up in his own home."

"Okay," Nereus said.

"You should look after your people," Palutena told him, beginning to walk off. "Make sure these children make it back to their families."

"I will," Nereus said, not knowing what else to say.

"And Nereus?"

Nereus, his head down, looked up then.

"This is the last time we're going to help you."

 _No matter what's going on down in the Ocean Floor,_ Palutena thought then, resolute. _Not even if Poseidon raises up his army to crush his son's forces once and for all—_

"Palutena."

The Goddess of Light turned sharply to her guest. Viridi looked at her expectantly. Palutena grimaced. "I suspect you just told me something important, something which I just completely ignored."

"That sounds about right." Viridi crossed her arms, glaring at her from across the room. In the fading sunlight, her blonde hair and light brown eyes burned a harsh gold. "Dark Pit and I were quite busy when you two were down on the Ocean Floor. But it seems like other things went on down there that you can't seem to get your mind off of."

"Pit still isn't awake," Palutena began, telling herself that she wouldn't talk about Nereus with her; at least not here, not now. "When we found Pit, he was with the other sea children, in the deepest part of the ocean. But the Woman wasn't there. Nereus began a searching party, but he thinks that Pit just defeated her, and she left without a trace. As much as I would like to believe that, I can't shake the feeling that we're missing something. If Pit defeated her, then why is he still asleep?"

"Feather Brain must have gone through a lot," Viridi said, a touch of sympathy in her voice. "He had to face The Sea Witch alone, which is something that he's never done before."

 _He's gone against plenty of people on his own before,_ thought Palutena distractedly. _Hades, Medusa . . ._ "The Sea Witch had the Power of Dreaming," Palutena said anxiously. "What if she's still alive, putting him through this? What if she's giving him nightmares-?"

"It does no good to worry if we don't know anything yet," Viridi said firmly. "Once Feather Brain wakes up, he can tell us all we need to know about his fight with The Woman. But for now, there might be a bigger threat than her. That's what I came to see you about."

Palutena nodded contritely, turning away from the open window. The sun was no longer visible, but its rays painted the world a bright red.

"Two occurrences," Viridi started, leaning forward onto a table, her palms face down. "The night when you and Pit left my Gardens, I took Dark Pit to wipe out some medium-threat Soul Suckers. They damage the life sources of the trees in the jungle biomes, usually found in the more humid climates. When Dark Pit took it out, he discovered a river at the base of a mountain—and it was thick with some dark, inky stuff. The nymph who had been in charge of that particular part of the jungle called it Dirty Magic. Polluting rivers, and causing all of the plantlife around it to go sour. It's a disease, and I want it out of my forest -now."

"Isn't that type of magic called Dark Magic?" Palutena asked. "Seeing all of the destruction it caused and its unknown origin?"

"Dirty Magic is wood-speak for Dark Magic," Viridi said, waving a passive hand at her. "It's basically the same thing. Anyway, I already took a sample to Arlon. He's trying to find its exact origin. But that's not my biggest concern. What I'm really concerned about is the arrival of a new goddess—and her opening something called Pandora's Box."

"Pandora's Box . . ." Palutena muttered. She had heard rumors of it among some of Medusa's lowly servants, but at the time she had figured it was just a made up bluff to trick her into believing that the defeated Goddess of Darkness still had another trick up her sleeve. After a while, no sign of the Box's existence ever came around, and eventually she gave it up to myth. "You saw it? It's real?"

"Sure thing. Dark Pit arrived at the scene, and in the center of this huge Pentagram was this tornado, and when he got closer he found this girl who claimed to be the Trickster Goddess, Jana. Ever heard of her?"

"No." Palutena grew anxious again. New deities were never a good sign, but she was thankful that she hadn't threatened her or her angel directly. "When she opened the Box, what did it reveal?"

"It seemed to give her some sort of power," said Viridi. "Probably meaning that she didn't possess that much to begin with. When Dark Pit came closer to defeat her, she unleashed some kind of force that blew him off his feet. After that, the goddess just . . . disappeared."

Palutena nodded. It was looking as if this goddess was planning something, and had found this Box to help her accomplish it. She sighed. That's what she got for ignoring important details.

"There was also an assassin there," Viridi said, thoughtfully. "I don't know how he knew Dark Pit was going to be there, inspecting the Box, but—"

"Wait, what? An _assassin_?" That was definitely new.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Viridi said, obviously not as concerned about this as Palutena was. "He wanted to kill off Dark Pit, take his wings and sell them. It was very weird."

"I've never heard of something like that before." Usually, when she sent Pit down to handle a situation on the Underworld, she would direct him down streets that were away from human interference. There was no telling how humans would react if they saw an angel up close, but apparently, word of the angels' existence had reached their ears. Still . . . why would they being trying to hunt them down? Pit hadn't made any enemies during his travels down on earth . . . she didn't think. . . "Next time we go down to the Overworld, I suppose we'll have to be more careful." Palutena looked up at the Nature Goddess. "Was there any other news you had for me?"

Viridi pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Not really. My focus is really just on this new "Trickster Goddess". Though we didn't kill the assassin, I believe Dark Pit could've, if the setting hadn't been so open . . ."

"You have to remember, Viridi, that the human was probably just going off false information regarding he and Pit," Palutena cautioned. "We shouldn't punish them for what they might think –"

"Don't be ridiculous," Viridi interrupted. "If this puny human tried to kill Dark Pit, just for his _wings,_ then you can be sure, that the next time we see him, he's going down."

Palutena sighed. Sometimes there was no reasoning with her. "Fine then. Have it your way. But that's not the code that Pit and I live by."

"I don't care what you do," Viridi said adamantly. "You can do whatever you want with him. Just know, that if I find this silly assassin, he's going to feel the full reign of my wrath against him. _Nobody_ messes with me like that."

"And I'll do just the opposite."

"You didn't see this guy, Palutena," Viridi said. "This guy—he was _trained._ He talked about Pit and Dark Pit as if he had been searching for them for years. He was persistent. He –"

"Nonetheless, I only show mercy when it comes to the humans of the Overworld. No matter what the case. It was probably just a misunderstanding."

This time it was Viridi who retracted. "You're so— _ughh,_ " she concluded, crossing her arms. "You make me care too much about these things, I swear . . . anyway, Sterling isn't my biggest concern in all of this. Jana—the new goddess— still unleashed this 'Pandora's Box' deal, and made it seem like it was a big deal. This trickster chick might be bad and mean business, but don't think she's connected to the Dirty Magic we found in the river. I think this is another situation altogether."

"We shouldn't go in and fight her blind," Palutena said. "You should go see if Arlon has any information on the Goddess, or the Box." Palutena knew that the Lunar Sanctum contained more than just prison cells. They held all of his research that Arlon had amassed over the decades. Perhaps he had some knowledge on these mysterious new forces. "I think you're right about this new goddess, and I believe that we can't be sure about this force that she unleashed, but we have to make sure that we don't underestimate them. Only when we know more about them can we make judgments on their capabilities."

Viridi nodded, starting to make her way out of the room. Before exiting, she turned. "I brought Dark Pit with me, even though Arlon would've wanted to have him to work on those necklaces with him. I think that—I think that Pit has been a good influence on him, and vice versa."

Palutena looked down at the ground. She didn't want to admit what a good presence Dark Pit had been in his life, but it was sort of becoming obvious at this point. "Yes, I think you're right."

XXX

Pit dashed around a corner, hoping to catch his breath. In his hands he clutched a pair of claws, almost transparent if you looked at them straight on. The angel leaned his head against the wall, and smiled.

He always liked it when Dark Pit came over.

"PIT STAIN!" yelled a persistent voice from down the hall somewhere. "GIVE ME BACK MY STEALTH CLAWS!"

Pit waited until he could hear Dark Pit's footsteps slapping against the marble floor towards him before he came out. He rounded the corner, his twin's claws dangling from one hand. Dark Pit glared at him, furious and panting as hard as he was.

Pit grinned cheekily. "Looking for these?"

Dark Pit dashed for them again, and Pit dodged, rounding the corner and down another corridor. Dark Pit loved those stealth claws like nothing else. He even slept with them, which kind of creeped Pit out. He became a little paranoid when he was in unfamiliar places, and always liked to keep some type of weapon on hand with him – _like a security blanket,_ Pit thought. So, early in the morning, Pit had stolen them from under Dark Pit's pillow, and was right in the middle of hiding them before Dark Pit had woke up hopping mad and bent for vengeance.

Every time Pit got some sort of head start, he took the chance to duck behind a secret passageway. Dark Pit would spend the next few minutes trying to find out where Pit had escaped to, while Pit was able to catch his breath. It served him well to have homefield advantage, especially since it seemed like Dark Pit was bent on killing him once he caught him. When Pit got bored, he continued the chase again, leaving Dark Pit angrier than ever and hot on his heels.

Now, it wasn't like Pit was trying to be mean ( **Me: Pit? Mean? Yeah, right!** ). Messing with Dark Pit was just a chance that he simply couldn't pass up.

Eventually the angels had slid into the Main Hall across from the Conference Room. The parts of Skyworld not dedicated to training proved to be quite spacious, and already the two had crossed half the distance it took from their rooms.

"PIT STAIN!" Dark Pit cried angrily. Pit just laughed, twisting down another hallway which he was bound to lose him in again. Dark Pit stopped, looking for something to throw. It was time to let the lighter angel know that he meant business.

In the Conference Room, Palutena and Viridi were oblivious to what was going on.

" . . . said that the pollution from the river is Dirty Magic, like we had been first been led to believe, but he said it was hard to say what the origin was. He said that there was a trace of what Medusa's magic had been like, but slightly different."

"But Medusa's dead." Palutena and Viridi had been up discussing what the situation might be down on earth since early that morning. But they didn't dare take the trip down to the Overworld just yet, not until they knew what exactly they were dealing with.

"Arlon suspects that someone might be carrying out her work even after she got destroyed," Viridi continued. "That would make more sense than some rogue Underworlders doing the job."

"You're probably right." She had thought the whole incident seemed too random. Why would someone try and pollute the plantlife down in the Overworld? Now that they knew that their magic traced back to Medusa, she could only think that whoever was doing this was planning on doing something big. "But why wait this long? If they had made themselves known when Medusa had arisen the second time, they could've worked together."

"You always assume that everyone's against _you,"_ Viridi said. "This attack on the Overworld—that was on _my_ turf. They polluted my land; they picked a fight with me, not you."

"True, but all dark magic has its origins from Medusa . . ."

"So maybe they aren't working for Medusa anymore," Viridi pointed out. "All the evidence says so. Hades picked a fight with me during the last war, even though his original fight was with you."

"Hades got under everyone's skin," Palutena said, shivering. "You picked the fight with him, not the other way around."

Viridi glared at her, her arms crossed and her lips pursed in typical Viridi fashion.

Palutena sighed. "Okay, okay, maybe this time, it's vice versa." She sighed, putting a hand to her head tiredly. "Maybe I'm just overthinking this whole thing."

"Or under thinking it," Viridi said pointedly. "I think they're planning something apart from what Medusa originally started the War down on earth for."

"They're probably acting within their own agenda this time," Palutena said, thinking of the things that had happened in the past. "Hades was still acting with the usual 'destroy all humans' agenda, like Medusa, but with a bigger plan to harvest their souls for even more destruction. Maybe this new foe is doing just that. Maybe they're planning on doing something larger than we can anticipate right now, working within the shadows until . . ."

Viridi threw her hands up in the air. "We're getting nowhere. I'm so sick of guessing. I just wish there were baddies to fight so we would actually be _doing_ something. I mean, Pyrrhon is still down there, destroying all of my forests, and we can't do anything about it—"

"We may have a lead yet," Palutena said, trying to be hopeful but not feeling the emotion behind her words. "Did Arlon have any information on the Trickster Goddess?"

"No," Viridi said, frustrated. "He said something about her being 'before his time', or some crap like that. Even though Arlon is the oldest deity I know."

"It's odd that she would choose to come out now," Palutena said, putting a hand to her head. She began to stand up to cross the room. "If she is so old."

"Oh no, here she comes; old lady Palutena, ready to deal out some business," Viridi teased lightly.

Palutena frowned deeply. "I am _not_ that old," she said sharply. Viridi blinked in surprise. "I just—have sort of a headache, is all."

"Headaches? Do gods even get those?"

"At least that gives us somewhere to start, then," Palutena said, not seeming to hear Viridi's last comment. She had gotten to the opposite wall, where a spout stuck out from the wall from the irrigation outside. From a nearby table, she grabbed a cup, filled it up and brought it to her lips in contemplation. "We'd might as well help you investigate it," Palutena said, looking around the room at the door. Pit and Dark Pit were yelling again, and she couldn't really think. Coupled with her headache, she was bound to be nasty. "Perhaps the boys could go check it out together—"

"I have no lead on her," Viridi said, frustration tinging her voice. "I don't know where to find her! And she's just making things so much more impossible- Down on earth, her rogue wind spirits are running lose, and it's like she's not even controlling them! It's not like they can be fought hand-to-hand—it would be like fighting freaking air!"

"This isn't impossible," Palutena reassured her. Viridi now had her head in her hands, rubbing at her temples as if _she_ were the one with the headache. "We just don't know our enemy yet. And to know one's enemy is to know how to defeat them," Palutena said almost absent mindedly. "Except, we don't have the luxury of knowing them. If only there was another way to beating them that didn't involve hand to hand combat . . . maybe through magic . . ."

"Like a secret weapon?" Viridi said, jumping at the chance to go and beat some. "Do we even have something like that—"

She paused when she saw a shoe fly across the doorway.

"What in the –"

Pit, in the other room, gave a dramatic cry of pain.

Another object, this time, a plate, flew across the room and hit something hard, hitting the floor with a crash. Pit yelled, and Dark Pit cried victoriously.

Palutena and Viridi rose from their seats, emerging from the room to see what was going on. The shoes that had been thrown suddenly had taken flight, its little wings on the side flapping as it toured the Conference Room. Palutena ducked as the shoe flew over at her head. Rounding the corner, she saw the two boys, wrestling each other, Dark Pit pinning his twin's face to the ground.

"Give it to me!" Dark Pit said.

Pit gave a muffled reply from his position on the floor that sounded something like "No".

"Give it to me!"

"Sit on his head!" cried Viridi, cheering Dark Pit on. "Make sure he doesn't steal you steal your claws ever again!"

"Dark Pit!" Palutena said, giving Viridi a look. "Did you throw my Hermes' shoes?"

Dark Pit turned around, Pit's face still planted in the floor. "Um . . . yeah."

Her eyes landed on the pieces of ceramic lying on the ground. "And did you throw that plate?"

"I believe so, yeah," Dark Pit said.

"Lady Palutena!" Pit cried, wrenching his face free from tasting the floor. "Pittoo's trying to kill me!"

"Yeah, right!" Dark Pit sneered, positioning his butt to sit on Pit's stomach. "And what did I tell you about calling me that!" The angel gave a slight _oof_ as Dark Pit sat on his stomach. Pit relinquished his claws, grunting "Uncle! Uncle!" and Dark Pit took them with a flourish, climbing up from him. "He stole my Stealth Claws!"

"Pit," Palutena said, "is that true?"

Pit got up from the floor, straightening his laurel wreath on his head and looking at Palutena sheepishly. "Yeah."

Palutena looked at him, unamused. "Well, it probably served you right that Dark Pit tackled you."

Pit frowned, Viridi rolled her eyes, and Dark Pit just looked content, having gotten his claws back.

"But don't throw things at each other," Palutena warned them both. "I thought you two were trying to kill each other."

"I did too!" Pit said, playing on innocence.

"Oh, suck it up," Dark Pit said. "I'm not like that anymore."

"We've got more important matters at hand, boys," Viridi announced with a rather inflated air. Dark Pit looked indifferent. "Palutena's got a solution to these nasty wind spirits down on earth. Something that will blast them off the earth for ever."

"Something like a secret weapon?" Dark Pit said, his eyes lighting up at once.

"I never said that," Palutena said, crossing her arms.

"You said exactly that." Viridi said, "You said you had a secret weapon."

" _You_ said that," Palutena corrected. "And anyways, it's not going to be as simple as that. It's not like I have a giant reef blower hiding in my closet I can use to just blow them all away."

"Even though that would be _so cool,"_ Pit commented.

"I just meant that, with a situation like this, all I could think of doing to possibly drive the wind spirits away is through magic. And though I'm a magic using god, officially, I don't believe I have the powers to conjure up something that could fight something as big as this. That's why I'm considering . . . help."

Lady Palutena's eyes didn't meet either of the two angels who stood there, or Viridi, who was looking at her quite expectantly. Pit scratched his head.

"Well, _who can help us?"_ Viridi demanded. "If it's our only option, then I expect we find him right away!"

"I would only go to him if he were my last resort," Palutena said sharply, and somehow that got her to stop pressing her about it. "Dealing with him in the past—things have always been delicate between us. It would be hard trying to persuade him to help us."

"So, what is he?" Dark Pit wanted to know. "Is he a god? A spirit, a demon? Is he evil? Is that the reason he might not want to help us?"

"He's Cupid." Palutena's voice lacked no small amount of enthusiasm. "The God of Love, Potions Master and Healer. And like love, his morals are rather gray. He is selfish, and works in the best interests of him and him only."

A thick sort of silence descended upon the room. Pit found he could not really meet his goddess' eyes, and Dark Pit gave him a meaningful sort of look that he thought he should contemplate later. Palutena's mood had reached a new level of nasty; the room seemed downright rank with it.

"He sounds a lot like Dark Pit," Viridi pointed out.

XXX


	9. The Potions Maker

_**"Don't curse the darkness, light a candle! When freaky aliens give you lemons, make freaky alien lemonade!**_ **– Hades to and Palutena and Pit, in Aurum Chapter Arc.**

 **A/N: Thank you for all of my wonderful reviewers! You all make my day, time and time again :)**

 **XXX**

A rather uncomfortable silence had descended upon the four after that. Even while flying, Pit still couldn't quite shake the feeling that his voice was being stuffed down his throat in the awkwardness of the situation. Not even Viridi could find cause to break the quiet. And Dark Pit was self-concerned as usual.

A conversation he had with Nereus just a few days ago popped up in his mind then, one he remembered having ended with Cupid's name. _Who could this guy possibly be?_ He wondered. Without it wanting too, he felt Palutena's sour mood descend on him then, and he sought out a way to break from it.

"Lady Palutena, what _is_ magic?" Pit tried. "Do only gods use it, or do humans use it too?"

 _"Some of the gods derive the source of their power from magic_ ," Palutena said. The two angels were below the clouds now, soaring over a series of hills strewn with various species of underbrush and shortgrasses. " _Many gods don't though; their forces being more elemental, like Viridi's. My power has magical means to it. So did Medusa's."_

 _"So, even though this Magic that's been infecting my jungle sounds a lot like Medusa's magic, we have reason to believe it's different, that it just has their origins in her magic."_ Viridi supplied.

 _"Its origins, meaning, its dark origins."_ Palutena said, sounding a little nervous. " _Medusa created dark magic, and so her connection with it could only make any sense."_

 _"Yeah, Medusa is the only reason my nymphs would know of Dirty Magic,"_ Viridi said. " _During the First War, all she did was pollute my land."_

 _"That's surprising, seeing as you never even helped me during the First War,_ " Palutena said, rolling her eyes.

 _"I was too busy protecting my forests_!" Viridi fired. " _Besides, you and Pit held up just fine."_

"Man, I'm so sick of Medusa, I'm just really glad it isn't her," Pit said. "I've already had to beat her three times!"

 _"You had to beat Thanatos three times,"_ Palutena commented.

"And he was the weirdest of them all," Pit said.

"I don't know," Dark Pit said, speaking for the first time. "I don't think Medusa would be such a bad person to see again."

"What do you mean?" Pit said, appalled. "She was evil. Everyone who's that evil should just die . . . and stay that way."

"Well, of course you would think that; you've beat her three times already. As for me, I've only seen her briefly."

"W-What are you saying?"

"She was pretty hot, for a goddess," Dark Pit said, no shame at all. "She definitely knew how to wear a toga, that's for sure."

Pit was stunned into silence, and Viridi was just too revolted to speak.

 _"Changing the subject now_ ," Palutena broke in. " _Though we_ _know of the origins of this magic, we don't know who is causing all of this Dirty Magic down on earth. But seeing Cupid may help us in fighting off the rogue wind spirits, and this new goddess, who just may pose the bigger threat right about now."_

 _"Though if I were to make a list, I'd say that Pyrrhon_ _is the biggest threat,"_ Viridi said. _"Nobody can defeat fire."_

"But he's contained, isn't he?" Pit asked worriedly. "He can't cause anymore destruction, right?"

" _True, but he's still extremely powerful."_ The two angels had surpassed the range of hills and were now looking down upon rocky terrain that soon gave way to a sprawling beach. Pit couldn't remember the last time he had visited the beach; there was something about the way refracting heat off the hot sand coupled with fresh sea spray felt that made his skin tingle with nostalgia. He marveled at the way the endless scape of sea looked, level and unbroken in the morning summer sun, and wondered where exactly their destination was going to be. _"Coupled with that dragon of his—well, there's a reason you and Dark Pit almost died_ _during your last encounter."_

"We'll beat him soon enough," Pit said hopefully. He felt himself being taken higher and higher into the atmosphere, pushing through clouds. He couldn't even see Dark Pit beside him, the view was so foggy. When he opened his mouth to speak, a mixture of both air and water rushed into his mouth. "Once Arlon is done with his necklaces—"

"Heads up," Palutena said suddenly, "Charmed Islands is just up ahead."

At last, the clouds broke to reveal the most wonder thing that Pit had ever laid his eyes on. There, floating on its own cloudy expanse, was an ocean; wide enough to reflect the full measure of the sun's glory against each of its floating reflecting surfaces. Its mighty waves beat against a beach further in, and torrents of water cascaded down the cloud's edge at different intervals, pouring into small islands of little pools and small huts.

 _"Whoa . . ."_ Viridi said, breathless.

"Lady Palutena . . .it's – it's like paradise!"

Not even Dark Pit had any snide comments to add. His dark eyes reflected in them the same amount of awe and wonder that Pit's had.

Back on the main shore, a large, stone, temple-like structure stood, with Corinthian-style pillars and fleur-de-lises alike. At the front courtyard, a great statue of an angel in a midair pose held a familiar looking bow at the ready.

"I know that bow!" Pit said, pointing as he flew over the island's ocean. "It's the Angel Bow!"

" _Right you are_ ," Palutena replied.

" _That's not Cupid,"_ Viridi said, _"is it?"_

 _"Miss Viridi! Miss Viridi!"_ Another voice soon made its way into the conversation. Pit recognized it as Phosphora's.

 _"What's up, Phosphora?"_ Viridi said cautiously.

" _A disturbance down on earth requires your attention_ ," Phosphora replied. " _A disturbance, meaning, Pyrrhon and the dragon have seriously disturbed this moat you've built, have found a way out and is now making it towards the forests at the foot of the mountain!"_

" _Oh, crap_ ," Viridi muttered. " _Wake up Cragalanche, will you? He should be able to hold them off until Dark Pit and my stronger Forces of Nature get down there—"_

"I'm not going," Dark Pit said suddenly.

There was a pause. Pit felt as though it lasted for an hour. " _Say that again?"_

"I said, I'm not going," Dark Pit repeated. "You've had enough help in trying to contain that monster. I _built_ that freaking moat for you; there's no way it should've been able to get through. No, there's something else going on down there, but I'm not going to be your lap dog in this one. I'm going down there to see how in the world we're going to defeat these wind spirits with Pit."

Pit was stunned and strangely pleased, but he got the feeling that Viridi didn't quite share his feelings.

" _You know, I have half a mind to drop you where you are,"_ Viridi hissed. Strangely enough, Pit half believed her; though they weren't all that far from the main platform, they still had about 40 feet of space between them and the ground. That was enough damage for a broken limb or two, he imagined. And Viridi always hated it when Dark Pit disobeyed her orders. _"You do not_ disobey _a god!"_

"Then do it," Dark Pit said stagnantly. "But don't come running back to me later on just to boss me around again once you do. Because then I'll just ignore you."

The rest of the trip went on in strange silence. Pit thought it was a lot like the beginning part of the trip.

When he and Dark Pit landed on the beach's stony courtyard, Pit was immensely relieved. He thought for sure that Viridi was going to make Dark Pit fall the rest of the way. Confronted by the angel statue again, there was barely enough room to ignore it. As he walked towards the statue in awe, stray particles of sand found its way in the openings of his boots.

 _"Did she leave?"_ Palutena asked.

"Yeah," Dark Pit said, his arms crossed. His eyes roamed to find Pit, but the angel was gone from his side. He turned around and found him, standing at the base of the statue. "Pit-Stain, what-?"

The stone angel's face seemed to smirk down at Pit. "So—you're saying that Cupid's an angel—and a god?"

 _"Yes_ ," Palutena said. " _Cupid is the first angel."_

"He's an angel—like me?" Pit said softly, a little sad. _How come she never told me_? Pit thought. "Are we—related in some way?"

" _No!_ " That made Palutena jump up like a firecracker. " _Dear Goddesses—no. That would be—quite disastrous."_

"Um . . .I'll just take your word for it."

" _I believe you came from . . . uniquely different circumstances than he did."_

"How different?" Pit asked.

" _Different enough to where you didn't end up like him_ ," Palutena replied.

"So, I'm guessing that there was no mirror involved?" Dark Pit said sarcastically.

" _No,"_ Palutena said, but there wasn't any laughter in her voice. Before either Pit or Dark Pit could say any more, she said, " _Come on, I can sense Cupid is just inside."_

They silently made their way to the great door.

XXX

The Main Hall was enormous. Shining gold adorned the whole space, giving the whole place a warm, yet hard, light. Doorways were framed with small, colorful mosaic glass pieces, tipped with a middle eastern point.

"Artsy," Pit said, boots slapping against the tiled floor.

"I agree," Palutena said, and Pit jumped to hear her voice directly behind him. He and Dark Pit turned in surprise at the goddess, and she smiled wanly.

"I figured it was time for me to pay Cupid a visit as well," Palutena said, but her eyes didn't match her smile at all. Before he could reply, however, two people came around the corner speaking quietly with one another; one a boy, about 21 or 22, and the other, a girl. The first one's face lit up at the sight at seeing Palutena, and he advanced forward.

"Tena!" he exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

Palutena rounded onto him, her face hard. "Don't you _ever_ call me that, as long as we both live, do you understand?"

Cupid merrily smirked. "Touchy, touchy," he replied, wiggling his fingers at her.

"I'm not that touchy when it comes to "Pittoo", am I?" Dark Pit murmured.

Pit gulped. "No, you're not."

Pit had just assumed it was Cupid, even though he'd never introduced himself by name. The reaction that Palutena put up against him as well as his obvious resemblance to the statue was evidence enough as to who he was. He had deep red hair, smoothed back and styled. A lone curl hung down in the space of his aquiline eyebrows; _Purposely put there,_ Pit thought randomly. He had sharp features, coupled with his still-present grin, and had a face like a mischievous imp, Pit surmised. He had a very petite figure, and stood only a few inches taller than Pit. But all of his features dulled in comparison to what stuck out to Pit the most; his small stature being framed with magnificent peach-colored wings, kaleidoscope-green eyes glinting at him as he drew near.

"It's so nice to see you, Palutena," Cupid said, "previous animosities aside. And the famous Pit," Cupid said, regarding the younger angel with eyes that gleamed in the golden aura of the room. "I've wanted to meet you for ages. But, alas! Palutena here wouldn't let me."

"I'm not famous," Pit said, blinking. "I'm just me."

"Not famous!" Cupid exclaimed. "Pit; you saved the world, like, three times. Hades was about to wipe out every single one of my precious humans off the face of the planet—until you came and wiped him from the face of the Underworld completely."

"The world was in danger," Pit said, slightly flattered. "Someone had to do it."

Cupid turned to Palutena in unsuppressed admiration. "Aw. Is he always this modest?"

Palutena had had enough introductions. "Cupid—"

"And Dark Pit," Cupid said, turning to the other angel. He looked him over slowly and amusedly. "I've heard rumors, but—seeing you in the flesh! You're exactly like Pit! Only—evil? No, that's not the right word for it."

"More sarcastic," Pit supplied. "And more annoying."

"I bet, Pit-Stain," Dark Pit drawled. "I may be a reflection of your true self, but I am _not_ as annoying as you."

"Reflection of his true self?" Cupid said. "I suppose the heroic Pit really does have a dark side."

"Not dark," Dark Pit stuttered. "Just—more realistic. Less subservient. I've got a mind of my own."

"Of course," Cupid said. "And so you _don't_ serve Palutena like your lighter half?"

"Of course not!" Dark Pit exclaimed. "I serve . . . Viridi."

"We're here on account of business," Palutena said before Cupid could speak again. She glowered at Cupid, "not pleasure."

"I should've known," Cupid sighed, frowning slightly. "Why in the world would you want to come and visit me? Ella," he called, and the girl that he had been talking with earlier made her way over to them from the nearest hallway. She was blond, a heart pendant resting at the center of her collarbone, and wore a spring green tunic. She looked up at Cupid with large brown eyes, and Pit looked away in embarrassment—she was ridiculously pretty. "Go ahead and continue with that inventory," Cupid told her. "The Alchemy Room, though—save that one for last." He smiled snidely at Palutena. "I have a feeling we'll need use of that very soon."

Palutena grumbled something under her breath. The girl—Ella—murmured a response and departed.

"What do you need, then?" Cupid said, walking a little ways back into the Main Hall, Palutena, Pit and Dark Pit following after him. "I'm quite busy, you see—keeping the peace is exhausting work. A day in the life of the God of Love—you wouldn't believe all of the trouble and setbacks I have to go through."

"When all you do is torment the humans of the Overworld with your potions and spells, I couldn't imagine," Palutena said dryly.

"And yet, you'll need use of my potions very soon by the looks of it." Cupid rounded on them and looked over them quickly. "You're out for those wind spirits down on earth, isn't that right? You wish to defeat them, and I'm the only person you could think of that might have something."

"So will you help us?" Pit asked, suddenly reminded of the reason they had come here in the first place.

"Of _course_ I will!" Cupid said—Pit got the sense that he was only humoring him—"Just - for a price."

"People are _dying_ down there!" Dark Pit exclaimed. Pit turned to him—he was outraged. "Their lives—they depend on you! You should be willing to help us if you care about the humans at all—at no cost!"

"Cupid doesn't care about them," Palutena said coldly. "He just uses them like they're toys."

" _So_ entertaining," Cupid said coyly, his mind switching gears almost at once. "Willing to do _anything_ for love. And the wide range of emotions that comes with that, too! Rage, jealousy, and lust . . . it just makes me want to suck them dry until they have nothing left." Cupid glanced at Pit, his green eyes glinting, and Pit had to suppress a shiver. He looked at Palutena, who looked just as surprised as he did. "Humans are such fascinating creatures," he said. "They feel so much more than us gods. And angels, I suppose. I never kept track. I haven't felt something to the extent of love since I was down on earth, encircled in my mother's embrace." Pit's eyes widened then, and Cupid went on, noticing. "Yes, a human! She had long, blond hair, and green eyes, like mine, I believe." He smiled at Pit, but it wasn't a warm sort of smile at all. "An angel's life is an interesting one, isn't it? Not quite human, not quite god, just . . . _stuck_ in between." Cupid gave a careless shrug of his shoulders, moving along the corridor and into another room. "That all changed when I became a god, of course."

"Cupid . . ." Palutena said warningly.

"I would suspect that the emotions of an angel would be like the feelings of both gods and humans combined," Cupid continued. He glanced at Dark Pit then, "at least, that's what I would conclude from what I've seen of you. You seem so torn—you tell yourself you're "Servant to no one but yourself", but, sheesh, I've seen you become dedicated Palutena, Viridi, and even _this_ one—"

"So, you're one of those creeper gods who spy on anyone who they please?" Dark Pit said. He was red in the face, but from anger or embarrassment, he couldn't say. "That's just like you _gods;_ wasting your eternity on something so pointless. Why don't you go and get a hobby, huh?"

"I do have a hobby," Cupid said, his voice level. "I invest in the lives of humans to enrich them, and make the necessary observations to make the potions I need. My work has helped humanity for hundreds of years—a skill of mine that I plan to revoke from your service if I keep on being insulted."

"Will you help us or not?" Palutena said, before Dark Pit could growl out a response.

"Of course I'll help you, Palutena," Cupid said, looking at her with offense that quickly changed to mischief. "Just . . . for a price."

Palutena narrowed her eyes. "What will it be?"

Cupid's eyes alighted on Pit. "I want him."

Palutena's eyes hardened. "No, Cupid. You aren't getting him."

"Aww, you're no fun," Cupid said, pouting. "Just for a night?"

"Not in a million years—"

"Then can I have the darker one? He's so amusing—"

"No, you can't have Dark Pit either—"

"I'm sure Viridi won't mind; I can send her a connection right here—"

"Oh; first Hades, now you," Dark Pit said, throwing his hands in the air. "Why does everybody want me?"

"It's your adolescence blossoming into misunderstood emotions and frustrated feelings," Cupid said immediately. "It's called _puberty,_ and it's simply _adorable."_

"Lady Palutena," Pit said meekly, "why would Cupid want us?"

Palutena looked at him in surprise, stuttering a response until her words failed her. Her cheeks began to get red, and she sighed.

"Oh, he's so cute," Cupid said, his head tilting in endearment. "It's no fair you get to keep him all for yourself."

Pit looked at his goddess once again. Dark Pit next to him looked as if he wanted to punch the older angel in the face, his arms crossed and looking surely. Pit was bewildered, his mind full of questions surrounding Cupid's—and his—origin, but fear colored the forefront of his mind first, and he wanted to know what was up with this unsettling god.

Palutena's head was bowed, resigned, her fingers pinching at her nose in disgust. "I can make you arrows," she murmured.

"What was that?" Cupid said, perking up.

"Arrows," Palutena repeated. "For your . . . you know. Enchantments. However many you want. I don't care. Just don't take him."

"One hundred thousand," Cupid said promptly. "Palutena, you're oh-so-very-kind—"

"Let's get to business," Palutena said tersely. "You've got a potion to make me."

XXX

"What does Cupid use his arrows for?" Pit asked, his legs swinging back and forth on the bench he and Dark Pit sat in.

"They make humans fall in love," Palutena replied, her arms crossed and glaring at the god who stood across from her. "And sometimes gods, too."

This reply made Pit so strangely quiet that Dark Pit was sort of worried.

The God of Love leafed through a large, worn out hardback at what seemed to be his work table. They were in the Alchemy Room; dimly lit by lanterns and definitely not large enough to fit four people. There were only two places to sit; on the bench that he was sharing with Pit and the wooden chair that stood next to Cupid. Palutena was apparently fine with standing. Her foot tapped on the ground impatiently.

Cupid slapped the book shut, turning to take down another one from the book shelf that stood behind him. This one was leather bound, with big, golden letters on the front that glittered and seemed to move in the dim candlelight of the room. "Now, you know that my specialty isn't with weapons," Cupid said, popping open the leatherbound. "So I wouldn't be able to make—say, a bomb that would be able to blow those pesky spirits out of existence."

"That's fine," Palutena said. "What can you make?"

"I can make something that could turn them into a wind spirit. That seems to be the only alternative I can think of. If they disguised themselves as wind spirits, then perhaps they will be able to fight them if they _were_ them—or at least locate the one person who freed them." He slammed the book shut and pushed it aside, turning to grab another book. "Damn, I really need to organize these things. Or at least book mark them. Maybe Ella—"

"A transformation potion?" Palutena said, her eyes shining in the flickering candlelight with worry. "Cupid that's – that's very dangerous magic. Isn't there anything else you can do?"

Cupid fingered through the books pages deftly. " . . . no."

Palutena gave a heavy sigh. "Fine. Are there any after effects?"

"Vomiting," Cupid said at once. It looked as if he had found the potion's recipe at last. "Being a wind spirit is very disorientating, and all of the fluid in your body will feel unnatural to your system for say, oh, a couple of days."

"Anything else?" Palutena asked blandly.

"Dizziness, but that's a given."

"How long does it last?"

"A day for one dose, and one dose is all I recommend," Cupid said, "taking into account the side effects." He grabbed a stray piece of paper from the table's surface and stuffed it in the book, then commence in pulling out various ingredients out of an overhead cupboard. "I wouldn't recommend being in the air when your time for being a wind spirit comes to a close."

For a moment, Palutena watched Cupid as he lay the table for his potion. Then she went over to them, still sitting on the wooden stool in the corner. Her light blue eyes were laced with worry, and not just towards Pit, either. "Are you two okay with this?"

Dark Pit felt like he didn't want to disappoint her. She had been acting a little out of character lately, that much was obvious, but somehow she still retained that same motherly concern. And Dark Pit was oddly moved. "I won't go if Pit doesn't go," he replied. "And anyway, it doesn't look like Viridi's coming around soon to take me back to the Hanging Gardens."

Palutena nodded at him understandingly, her gaze falling on Pit now. He sighed. "If it's the only way to defeat them, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure they don't harm the humans ever again."

And then Palutena smiled, mussing up Dark Pit's hair and putting a hand to Pit's cheek. "I knew I could count on you two."

XXX

Six hours later, the lights were dim in the Alchemy Room, and the windows from the room beyond told that the hour was well past evening. A girl with deep blue eyes and chestnut-brown hair served them some dinner, which the boys had devoured ravenously. Now they dozed on the wall outside, on pillows provided for them by the same blue-eyed girl. They were big and fluffy and soft, making Dark Pit fantasize that they were sleeping on actual clouds. Pit was asleep in less than a minute. Dark Pit drifted on a little longer, the warm, heavy fumes from the potion causing his eyes to descend lower and lower.

In the Alchemy Room, Palutena sat, conversing in low tones with Cupid as he presided over the potion.

Cupid chuckled dryly. "Palutena, I don't believe hiding it from him is actually the best course of action."

"It never went well with you," Palutena replied, sounding weary. "You chose to hide from your fate, instead of facing it."

"Well, it's been this long. He deserves to know where he came from."

"I don't want the same thing that happened to you to happen with him as well."

"Pit is a very loyal soul," Cupid said, his voice tinged with a sour edge. "The ignorance you've forced him to deal with has made him to be very innocent."

"If only you hadn't turned away from the Words spoken about you, this burden never would've fallen to Pit."

 _"I_ at least had the freedom to choose my fate. Will you give Pit that same freedom?"

"I have no other choice," Palutena said. "We cannot test the Prophecy again. Pit _has_ to be the Winged One. He _has_ to be the One who will stop the Turning of the Earth . . ."

 _The Winged One?_ Dark Pit thought drearily as his eyes drooped lower and lower. _Pit-Stain has a prophecy about him? And somehow Cupid is in on it too? I should tell him . . ._

Dark Pit drifted to sleep.

XXX

In the morning, the same girl woke them from the ground and told them that there was breakfast waiting if they wanted it. Dark Pit sat up eagerly, his stomach rumbling in response. He pulled Pit up as well, telling him in his stupor that there was food in another room. Pit was awake at once, and presently the two of the followed her into a small dining room, lit with a pink-red glow from the candelabra above. Before them, on the table, was a simple, but gorgeously laid-out spread; chocolate-chip pancakes and crepes, with a side of bacon, sausage, quartered red potatoes, and sunny-side-up eggs topped with sprigs of cilantro. Pitchers of orange juice, apple juice and milk sat in the middle of the food, and small little bowls nears the syrup and powdered sugar were freshly picked berries. The two angels ate it all and then some, dipping their fingers in the rest of the gods-sent, warm buttery syrup, fighting amongst themselves with remains of the powdered sugar while savoring the taste it left in their mouths. They avoided the crepe sauce, thinking it tasted suspiciously of wine.

The girl entered the room again when they were done eating, telling them that the potions that Cupid had been working on had finally been completed. The two angels wandered back into the Alchemy Room, watching as Cupid dipped a long handle into a rather big, black cauldron and Palutena standing right across from him, watching his movement closely. Neither of them looked like they had got very much sleep, but Cupid more than the goddess; his licorice-red hair had lost its vibrant sheen and hanging in lank, loose curls across his forehead. He wore a different outfit than he did yesterday, this one conspicuously less bright and showy and more conventional, little beads of sweat made their way down the side of his face as he lifted the handle from the cauldron, painstakingly lifting the liquid gathered from the spoon and the small vial he held in the other to meet. He poured the liquid with care, handing to Palutena afterwards when he did so, and repeating with process with another vial which Palutena dually sealed the stopper on as well.

"Enjoy your meal?" Cupid said tersely, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He made effort to peel off his gloves.

The angels nodded silently.

"Good. I'll be sure to tell the cook." He looked towards the angels in expectancy, his eyes widening. "For the love of – what in Skyworld _happened_ to you two? It looked like you got into a fight with some sort of sugar monster!"

"Yeah, the syrup creature was there as well," Pit said, smiling slightly.

"By the Underworld," Cupid said. "It's a good thing this potion will disguise yourselves too much for clothing to be a problem. Or else I would demand you go and change, immediately."

"It's a good thing they're my angels to command, and not yours," Palutena said, crossing the room to hand a vial to them both. Dark Pit inspected its contents closely. The glass vial, about the size of his pinky finger, was cool to the touch, and was a clear-ish blue.

"Now, these potions will only last a day," Cupid repeated with a solemnity that Dark Pit didn't even know was possible with him. "Be mindful of the time. And as I already explained to Palutena, when you two were asleep, her mind connections to the two of you will not work. When you turn into wind spirits, you will feel like something else entirely, a new being. The transformation process will not be painful, but the feeling you will get, from being no longer a _solid_ being to a _gaseou_ s one, will be disorientating. You may have trouble moving at first, or you may be able to get a hang of it immediately. It all depends, I believe, on how well you are able to adapt."

"Uh, Cupid? I think you gave us the wrong potion," Dark Pit said. "This is the recipe for water, not transformation into wind."

"Do you know how long it took for it to reach that consistency, angel?" Cupid spat. "I assure you, its opaque quality means it's going to work. It's not like I've been slaving all night to give it to you anyway."

"And you have our thanks," Pit said, cautiously.

"I would save your breath. It's not like he's doing all this for free," Dark Pit said.

"He's right, but your hard work won't go unrewarded," Palutena said. "Your potions and spells are always the finest. I have no doubt that we'll receive top-notch results."

"Trying to flatter me, are you? Don't worry, I didn't put poison in them," Cupid said, just as Pit was going to put the vial to his lips. He stopped, and Dark Pit glared at the young god. Cupid just smiled, gazing at him with cool green eyes intermingled with pity and insolence. Then he rolled his eyes. "Excuse my cold demeanor. Making potions always seem to take a lot out of me. It's taxing work. Well, Palutena—" Cupid turned to snuff out the candlesticks that still burned behind him—"Contact me as soon as you can about those marvelous arrows you promised me. Show yourselves out whenever. Teegan is always here to make you comfortable." Suddenly he stopped short of the angels, looking at Pit with hopeful longing. Then, just as sharply, he slipped his way out the doorway. "Now if you would excuse me, I am now going to sleep for the next 24 hours."

And then Cupid left them. Dark Pit hoped that it was the last he would have to see of him for a really, really long time.

 **XXX**

 **A/N: Ah, my longest chapter, but, then again, Cupid always has a lot to say. He deserves it, though, being my second most favorite OC I've created so far.**

 **And—gosh, dang it! I couldn't resist NOT giving an explanation for that oh-so-mysterious bow in the game! The Cupid Bow—well, that's a big hint for the fans of the game. Fuel for fanfictions. They're basically like "Hey! OVER HERE! WE HAVE AN IDEA FOR A GOD IN OUR GAME BUT DON'T HAVE ENOUGH CHAPTERS TO PUT IT IN! CAN OUR WONDERFUL FANS DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS, PLEASE? XOXOXO, the Nintendo Team."**

 **Heh, Dark Pit. Get your devious mind out of the gutter, and stop thinking about the Goddess of Darkness, ya nasty! Oh, and how cute you are with your little wishes! *pats head* To answer your question, you WILL be seeing Cupid here very soon—extremely soon, in fact.**

 **One more thing. I figured that Palutena would've taken someone else to her care, before Pit. So, I made it to be Cupid, and introduced his character in a flurry of intrigue and backstory. The first angel? Maybe?**

 **Please review! Good or bad, just be honest! I like hearing my readers' thoughts :) Critiques especially are much appreciated!**


	10. It's Hard Being a Venti

**_"Sorry to keep you waiting!"_ \- Pit, in Kid Icarus, Chapter 1**

 **A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry about the wait :P My house flooded this weekend and I haven't been motivated to do shiiiiiit. For my next post, I will be putting out _two_ chapters! YAY!**

 **These two next chapters will be a part of the 'Wind Spirit' Arc. Hope you all enjoy :)**

 **XxX**

Dark Pit missed being an angel.

No, don't try to point it out—it wasn't like he actually _was_ one, not anymore. Sure, he could _fly,_ but not by himself. His wings were dead when he was without the help of a goddess, usually—but now was not usually. Now he didn't have his dead wings—now, he could actually fly.

But, above missing being an angel, he specifically missed having _skin._ The feeling of touch wasn't even present; at the state he was in, he didn't even feel _numbness._ He felt as if his body felt the same way all over because that was precisely what he was all over—the same thing. Swooping down from the sky with Pit, at speeds that he didn't even think were possible, the winds no longer rushed through his ears and messed up his hair because he _was_ the wind. No weight, no feeling at all; just the subtle awareness of consciousness and thought.

But, as he had pointed out before, there was one thing he didn't miss about his own, solid body; the inability to fly on his own.

" _Whoo-hoo, yeah!"_ Pit cried out next to him. Though he couldn't very well see facial expressions, Pit's voice in his mind enabled him to picture what his face would look like almost perfectly; a face of pure joy. Dark Pit could almost imagine him fist pumping the air. And it only made sense; Pit's only wish would be to fly all by himself. Dark Pit knew that, as well as Viridi and Phosphora and Arlon. It was no secret. This moment—this whole day, as a matter of fact- would be like heaven to him.

And these precious moments Dark Pit also cherished, for he did not feel this free since stealing Pandora's powers for himself.

Not even Viridi was here to spoil it for him. His thoughts were uninterrupted and untainted by curses or belittlements that Dark Pit would usually be subject to if he was in his angel body. But he wasn't. As he did what might be counted as a nose dive (if Dark Pit had a nose), he saw the world, all small green shapes for trees and large gray expanses for mountains, and spread out his hands as if he could embrace it all right then and there. He wasn't happy, no; but he came pretty damn close to it if he could say anything about it.

Somewhere in the distance Dark Pit thought he could hear something faint that was calling out to him. He wasn't sure how he knew the language, but it was there all the same; whispering and rasping. There were a lot of them, and it was sort of hard to figure out what was being said, but eventually he believed he got the gist of it; and pulling and pushing, the urgency of their talk, trying to get him to listen, to understand, to come and join them. It sounded almost like wind.

"We're _venti,_ " Dark Pit said/thought, because he was pretty sure he didn't have a mouth or anything like that.

Pit had heard him. "We're—what?"

" _Venti,"_ Dark Pit repeated. "That's what the wind spirits call themselves. Can't you hear them?"

After a moment of hard contemplation, Pit told him that he thought he could. Dark Pit sought to remember how he was able to figure out what they said so easily—soon he figured it would just be like second nature to him, like slipping on a glove, since he was a wind spirit himself now.

He scored the land that lay before them, trying to place identity to the plethora of voices within his head right then and there. Now that they were wind spirits, they'd be able to not only see each of them individually, but communicate with each one of them as well. Soon he was able to locate the city that Palutena had told them about before they had left to go on their mission—the one that was hidden in a small nook in the mountain side, overlooking a grand forest filled with tall pines. With the time that they had been given, they were to stop them from terrorizing the town, figure out a weakness that the winds were liable to, and find and defeat Jana before it was all too late, all while trying to figure out the new gaseous bodies that they had been given. It seemed like a rather impossible task, for someone who preferred to stick to the shadows like him.

"There's the town!" Pit said, pointing and nearing the place below them even as the words exited out of his mouth. "Come on, let's go check it out!"

And before long, Dark Pit was following his twin to the situation at hand.

The town was mostly empty, and for a good reason too. Chilling sounds of the wind moving from building to building ransacked Dark Pit's ears, tearing up each house they passed through. The two angels stayed at the edge of the city, watching their progress. It chilled him to think about how the people living there made it out of the town; he could only hope that they made it out safely.

"They seem to be looking for something," Pit said cautiously.

Dark Pit had to agree. With each house they left, a bunch of the dark wind spirits would congregate at the entrance of the house and discuss something. Their voices were angry, that much he could tell, and after a while they would disperse themselves and pick their way towards the next empty house that they hadn't ransacked.

Dark Pit figured they were onto something with this, but he didn't much feel like sacking a human town just to figure out what the heck they were even doing there. Just as the angel was about to turn to his twin to try and discuss a plan, the lighter one suddenly exclaimed with a great cry of delight:

"Magnus!"

"Um, who?" Dark Pit said, properly confused. He followed Pit's line of gaze. His eyes landed upon the largest, buffest human he had ever glimpsed, with shoulder length black hair and a mean looking face. He looked pissed off about something, and was stomping through the streets like he had someone he wanted to kill. Dark Pit blinked. Strapped to the guy's back, was a thick, metal sword, probably a club. Dark Pit was surprised that the guy could carry something that looked like it weighed so much—it had to be at least half a ton. Then again, the guy was a giant.

He looked over to Pit. "How in the world do you _know_ this guy?"

Pit didn't answer him, but actually called out the guy's name again. The guy named Magnus made no move to identify the source of the voice, which was weird, since in this part of the city, there didn't seem to be as many winds spirits. In fact, none of them seemed to bother the giant man, and whether or not Magnus recognized that Dark Pit could tell. It just seemed like he was on his way to find something—or some _one—_ just as much as the wind spirits seemed to be.

"Okay, so it seems like this guy might be the best bet we have in figuring these things out, but I still don't want to—" It was then when Dark Pit realized that he was talking to himself. The angel had actually _made his way over to him,_ this guy who was a big as a _mountain,_ who looked like he's killed both people and monsters.

"Pit— _wait!"_ Dark Pit zoomed his way over to the overexcited angel. Magnus had made his way towards the center of the city, where the noise from the wind had raised to a crescendo. Up ahead, Dark Pit could see the city covered with litter from their passing destruction. The energy in this part of the city was electric, and Dark Pit could feel all of the hair on his arms standing up with electric activity. Suddenly, Pit crashed into the giant, and the man he called Magnus lay sprawled out on the ground in bewilderment.

"Magnus—Magnus, it's me!" Pit said, his incorporeal spirit swooshing all about the man on the ground.

Magnus looked around, his eyes wide. "What in the world—was that?" he grunted.

"It's me, angel-face!" Pit said, right in his ear.

Magnus covered his ear with both hands. "Argh-damn wind spirits," he muttered lowly. "Get away from me, I don't have what you need."

"What is it that they need?" Pit said, his excitement overpowered with curiosity.

"Pit-Stain—he can't hear you," Dark Pit said, coming over to him. "I doubt that he can ever see you. Step away before he—AHHH!"

For Magnus was now swinging his long-ass club at the two angel-turned spirits. "Out of my way!" Magnus threatened, getting up on one knee. When the two angels didn't bother him again, he stood on both feet, and continued to make his way.

Pit's breath was coming out in gasps. "M-Magnus-?"

"Pit-stain, what were you _thinking?"_ Dark Pit said, breathing just as hard as he was. He was pretty sure none of them were hurt, seeing as they were both invisible and without solid form, but the experience was still jarring, and he felt lucky that he didn't lose a limb. "Who was that guy?"

"His name is Magnus," Pit told him, a touch of sorrow in his voice. "I met him when I confronted the Dark Lord Gaol for the first time. He helped me defeat her—and helped me out again, back when I was stuck without my body in the whole Chaos Ring business."

Dark Pit was completely lost. He had almost forgotten where Pit's previous adventures had taken him. They sounded too bizarre for him to make sense of right now. Dark Pit decided to let it slide.

"I'm going to pretend any of that made a lick of sense. So you think this dude will be able to help us?"

"Of course. He thinks I'm annoying, but I know he'll help me if I need it."

"That's the thing—I don't think he knows it's actually you, Pit-for-brains," Dark Pit explained to him. Pit didn't seem so sure. "I mean—come on, I can barely see you as it is. Our forms as wind spirits don't show us as we actually are."

"Then how do I speak to him?"

"I don't know—maybe we can—"

Dark Pit stopped at the sound of a series of shouts coming up from the center of the city.

Dark Pit looked up. Magnus was nowhere to be found, but Dark Pit could take a stab in guess where he would be. In one of the largest of buildings they could see, the two angels saw at least a dozen wind spirits shooting in and out of it, flying from windows and diving back in with renewed speed. It didn't just sound like Magnus was in there, either; another, more annoyed and high pitched voice yelled out from the building as well, calling for help.

Dark Pit despaired. Either Magnus was flaying some poor human victim with his humongous sword, or the wind spirits were attacking both of them. Either way—

"We have to help them," Pit said, his voice set with determination. "Hurry, before something happens to them!"

And Pit was off, Dark Pit on his tail.

They got in easily. What met them on their way in was a situation that would require a little more skill, though.

Within the mass of swirling wind spirits, Dark Pit could make out two figures. He was pretty sure one of them was Magnus—one could not just dismiss that hulk of a dude so easily. It looked like the wind spirits had found what they were looking for on the other figure. He was surrounded, his figure being pushed back and forth between two dark wind spirits who looked as if they were playing a deadly game of table tennis. The others about them whipped around the man's figure rapidly, tearing at his clothes and pulling at his hair.

" _Where isss it, where isss it?"_ the wind spirits hissed. From what Dark Pit could see, they were not touching the man beside Magnus directly, just whipped around him at fantastical speeds, as if they could not get too close to him either. The same didn't apply for Magnus, though. He thought that he and the wind spirits were in on him for the same reason, for it looked like the other man was trying to twist from Magnus' choking grip as well as from the wind's elusive grasp. It was absolutely chaos, but a closer look at the scene made the angel's sympathy suddenly go down the drain . . .

"Ha!" Dark Pit found himself jeering. "Serves him right!"

Pit turned slowly, his face the picture of absolute horror. "H-how could you _say_ that? He needs our help!"

"No . . . they'll be fine." Dark Pit didn't want to face his incriminating look. He just wanted to live this moment and savor it for a while longer.

"Y-You know that guy, or something?"

"Hell yeah! That jerk tried to kill me!"

"He _what?"_ Pit exclaimed, not believing that Dark Pit got attacked by a human, of all things, and almost got killed by one too.

"His name is Sterling," Dark Pit said, enjoying this moment. "He's that assassin that Viridi and Palutena were talking about, the one who _rudely_ interrupted me when I was trying to get a hold of Pandora's Box!"

" _That's_ him? But why do the _venti_ want him?"

"Beats me. Maybe they want something he has?"

"That has to be the only explanation. . ."

But Dark Pit barely heard him. Sterling's white blue eyes were wide with terror, frantically trying to pull free from the _venti_ who surrounded him.

It was then, however, while Pit was trying to get Dark Pit to snap out of it and actually try to help him come up with a plan that Magnus stopped trying to strangle the assassin and overheard the two angels talking in a language that he could actually understand.

"Oh no . . . that voice . . . it sounds horribly familiar . . ."

"What voice, Magnus?" Sterling asked, his neck still in Magnus' iron grip. "Please don't be hearing things. That would mean you are even less in the head than you already are . . . making matters worse for Sterling."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Magnus replied, sneering at him. "That was Angel-face's voice, I know it . . ."

"It was me, that was me, Magnus!" Pit said, overhearing them overhearing. Pit turned to Dark Pit. "Didn't I tell you he would hear me?"

"Sure you did," Dark Pit said, rolling his eyes.

"Magnus." Sterling was talking. "There's no one else in the room but you and Sterling, and these pesky wind spirits Sterling seems to be getting tired of very quickly."

"No, I would recognize that voice anywhere," Magnus grumbled, looking around the room unsurely. "Unless . . . arghh! That's angel's always been playing tricks on me!"

"No, I'm not, Magnus!" Pit said. "I'm really here!"

"That being as it may, Magnus," said Sterling, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Why are you here, other than to come and choke Sterling to death, once more?"

"These crazy winds want you for something, don't they?"

"Whatever it may be, Sterling assures you, Sterling does not possess what they seek."

Magnus gave him a hard, scrutinizing look. Sterling stared back at him, his face neutral, though his neck was still in Magnus' possession. Magnus relented. "Get out of here, eh?" he demanded, shooing the wind spirits away with one hand. He dropped Sterling then, and the two began trying to drive the _venti_ together.

But they just wouldn't let up.

"I have to make him see me!" Pit said frantically. "Dark Pit, how do I make myself look solid?"

"What? How should _I_ know? I've been one of these stupid wind thingies as long as you have!"

" _He hasss it, he doesss, he doesss!"_ one of the wind spirits hissed with urgency. They seemed on the brink of getting what they wanted from the assassin.

" _The warlock, he liesss, he will not show it to usss!"_ Another hissed.

"Sterling does not have what you are looking for!" the assassin said, shooing a few away with one his knives.

"Come _on_ Dark Pit, you're usually better at figuring out these things than I am!"

"Then just— _concentrate for once!"_ He thought he sounded a lot like Viridi right then, nagging and unhelpful. "Clear your mind, Pit-for-brains, and concentrate on what you want to do! Make him see you!"

Pit's form grew still. He didn't have a face, but Dark Pit figured if he did have one, his eyes would be shut tight, and his face would be scrunched in concentration. Gradually, Pit's true form shimmered into being.

The angel opened his eyes (for Dark Pit was right; he had closed his eyes in concentration) and looked down at his figure. Galvanized with new resolve, he looked at the swirling figures of wind spirits and took action. "HEY GUYS!" Pit said loudly next to him. The wind spirits turned to look at him—each of them in various forms of human, angel, and horse likeness. "I FOUND IT!"

All of the _venti_ turned to look at him. " _Where?"_ A dozen voices demanded at once.

"O-over here!" Pit called, and turning into an arbitrary direction, led the angry wind spirits away from seemed to be Sterling's house. When Pit had left, Dark Pit found himself in the same room as a mercenary and an assassin. Just _perfect._ He weighed whether he wanted to reveal himself to the two like Pit had done or if he just wanted to keep looking like some ghostly non-corporeal spirit.

Magnus looked in the direction of the _venti_ exodus. He looked confused, not mean, and in that moment he suddenly didn't seem as menacing as Dark Pit first labeled him to be. He looked more . . . well, _hardened,_ Dark Pit thought. And, whatever that was supposed to mean, it gave Dark Pit the thought that maybe he didn't have to be so distrusting of him after all.

"I could've sworn that was Angel-face back there," Magnus said, his face still wrinkled in confusion. Sterling, next to him, began to gather himself together, straightening out his clothes and smoothing back down his hair.

"Yes, Sterling could have sworn, as well," the assassin said, procuring from the inside of his tunic a small, drawstring bag.

Magnus looked at the bag in dawning comprehension. "You-!"

"What are you hiding?"

The two reverted their gazes to the back of the room. Dark Pit floated there, looking more like an angel than a formless _venti,_ and waited for an answer.

Magnus' eyes furrowed. "Angel face?"

"No, that's the other guy," Dark Pit said, seeing no reason why he would try to hide his annoyance. Sure, they were almost completely strangers, but that didn't mean he couldn't be _rude_ to them, did it? "You've got me confused for the other guy." He jerked a finger behind him. "He was the one who drove all of those wind spirits off, leaving me here . . . Pit-stain has the illusion that you may be able to help us in our next mission . . . " He leveled his gaze on Sterling. "Though if it wasn't for him, I'd let those winds tear you apart."

Sterling grinned his ice-cold smile. "My angel, that would be most unkind of you. But Sterling is pleased that you have decided to let us keep our lives."

Magnus looked at the two of them, back and forth. "I don't even want to _guess_ at the history you have together . . . but answer me this, Other-Pit; how did you and Angel-Face get turned into wind spirits?"

"That's . . . a long story," said Dark Pit, unsurely. He wondered at how much information he should lease to the other guy about their mission down at the Overworld. "It's a story for another time, I think. What matters right now is the _why._ We came down in disguise to figure out how to defeat these things, these _venti."_

"Yeah, well, that's what I'm here about, too," Magnus said, turning a hard eye to Sterling. "I figured _he_ would have something to do with it, but the guy's not budging."

"You're right," said Dark Pit, glaring at Sterling as well. "He was there at the opening of the Box, and if it weren't for him, I'd have prevented the wind spirits from getting lose."

Sterling seemed to be enjoying the attention. "Sterling is a humble assassin trying to make his living," he said. "Sterling did not mean to get in the angel's way of saving the world. Sterling was only trying to get his next meal." He shrugged, holding up his bag. "Sterling predicts that the bag has what they want. Though what of the contents of the bag, Sterling has no gathering."

Magnus was skeptical. "What do you mean by that?"

Sterling tossed him the small bag. "Sterling does not know what lies within its contents."

Before Magnus could see what was in it, however, he was interrupted.

"I'm back!" Pit said, coming through the window. "Magnus, remember me?"

"How could I forget?" Magnus said with sarcasm.

"How come you didn't just give the stupid _venti_ what they wanted?" Dark Pit questioned Sterling. "They were persistent enough."

Sterling seemed to not have heard him, though. He was looking at Pit, his pale blue eyes glittering in interest. "Another angel?" he said. "Another prize? And more wings to sell, to keep for reward? Sterling's curiosity has been pleasantly piqued."

Pit looked at him with surprise. "Dark Pit," he said lowly, "I don't understand a word this guy is trying to say."

But Dark Pit very well did. "We'll deal with him later," Dark Pit said. "Right now, we just need to use him for information." And with a shove, Dark Pit had Sterling against the wall. "Now, answer my question, and do it without looking at my brother, for Medusa's sake."

It was not a request. Sterling looked unhampered at being threatened by the angel, however, and answered in apparent ease. "Sterling's last kill had ended in disaster," he replied. "Though a bit of a long shot to begin with, Sterling's targets have been getting more and more scarce. Sterling soon happened upon this treasure, which he had been planning on selling for a nice penny soon enough. Here in this town, as a matter of fact, before the _venti_ decided to take it over and drive everyone out of it. Everyone except for _Sterling,_ for he apparently had what they were seeking."

"Figures," muttered Magnus.

"Might as well and see what's in the pouch, then," Pit said.

Dark Pit loosened himself off Sterling so that he could see what happened when Magnus opened the pouch. He soon learned to regret it, however. Once Magnus loosened the bag, Pit and Dark Pit darted back involuntarily. He hissed. Pit looked close to jumping out at Magnus and tearing out his throat. "Close it!" Pit spat. "Close it now!"

And Magnus did.

He and the lighter angel were breathing hard. Dark Pit couldn't explain what had just happened. He was only certain of one thing:

" _That's_ what we use to destroy the wind spirits."

 **XxX**

 **A/N: It's looking like this chapter and the next are going to be in Dark Pit's POV. I know he'll like that; he was getting a little jealous of Pit having two extra chapters to himself during that Seafloor Palace Arc.**


	11. Mount Aranes

**_"Look who finally caught up!"—_ Dark Pit**

 **A/N:** **I broke my promise with Dark Pit. I actually have a section that cuts here with Magnus, talking with Gaol, and with Pit, being…well, Pit.**

 **XxX**

"Magnus!"

The regiment leader turned his head to see Gaol, ragtag team of ruffians and mercenaries alike behind her. A sprightly boy of fifteen carried a flag beside her, its field a dark gray with the purple head of a bull in its middle. Magnus lifted his right hand in a hail, and Gaol hailed right back. He stepped towards her, dragging the traitor assassin Sterling along with him, his hands in a makeshift constraint of rope.

Still five feet away from each other, Gaol plunged right to business. "Magnus, is the town secured? And who is this?"

"This is Sterling," Magnus said shortly, bringing the man to his knees. "He's one of the reasons the wind spirits have ravaged this town." He held his left hand towards her, letting him take the other end of the rope which held him. "I believe we should take him prisoner."

Gaol nodded, grabbing the rope which he held out to her. In that transaction, their hands touched briefly. "Sorry," Gaol hurriedly, growing bashful, though Magnus didn't think there was anything for her to apologize for. In fact, he longed for her to put her hand in his again, and touch his face again, the way she used to before she had gotten taken by the Underworld Army. Now every touch they shared was an accident, her still not trusting herself to anyone—not even to a friend.

"I'll need you to handle the army for a couple more days," he said, his voice always more soft whenever he was with her. No matter how awkward she made it between them, he always treated her patience and kindness. He didn't think he could ever get angry with her.

"The people, did they make it out in time?"

"Yes," he told her. "We drove the _venti_ back, and I think we've found a way to drive them back for good."

"We?" Gaol said skeptically. "You and who else?"

Leaning closer, so that only she could hear, Magnus said, "I've found the angel again." Gaol's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm going to find out what's been going on these past few months. I'm going to get help with all this."

Gaol nodded, her brow furrowed in concern. But she trusted him. "And then we'll be able to go home again?"

"Yes," he said, a bit wearied by that statement. "Home." Over the past few months, they'd been going at it nonstop; saving villages from sudden sinkholes, and whole cities from volcanoes that were believed to be dormant. Something was wrong with the earth, Magnus knew, but couldn't identify what. He figured it had something to do with the gods, leaving the humans to once again clean up their messes down on earth. But here was the angel boy again, and with that, a chance to do something that may decide the fate of an entire world. With the angel he'd be able to gather some info on how to slow down the destruction of the earth, and perhaps fight against it as well. "Just wait for me. I'll be back, real soon. You can hold me to that, alright?"

"I know I can," Gaol said, that stubborn confidence Magnus knew so well rising up in her voice once more . She jerked on the now-prisoner's bonds, bringing him up onto his feet again. "Let's go," she called out to her regiment and her prisoner at the same time. "We'll camp out in the forest until Magnus comes back."

With Sterling and the boy flag-bearer, Gaol led her army down back the direction that they came. But not without a backward glance to Magnus. He felt his heart turn within him.

"You alright, Magnus?"

The mercenary turned his gaze back over the hill. At the top of the hill were the angels-turned-to-wind-spirits once again; now in their corporeal forms, Magnus still couldn't tell the two apart.

He still couldn't believe that he had found the little boy angel again, out of the blue, after all this time. It was too coincidental for Magnus' standards; it was about the third time he had directly participated in with helping the gods. Not that he was particularly religious to begin with, but reflecting over the angel had made him questions things as of late; things about free will, faith, the afterlife. It was enough to make his brain hurt. He figured he'd be getting some props in heaven or whatever they called it nowadays for all of this time he was putting in for gods he didn't even pray to.

"Fine," Magnus said shortly. Gruff demeanor: activated. He walked up the hill towards them.

"Glad we got that over and done with," said Dark Pit, his arms unfolding. "I felt like I was going to barf watching you two schmooze it up over there."

"Wait, huh?" said Pit, looking between Dark Pit and Magnus in turn, trying to reach understanding. His gaze finally landed on Magnus. "You mean, you and Gaol are together?"

"No, not really," Magnus more or less growled. "It's . . . complicated."

"Does it have to do with the fact that Gaol was a slave for the Underworld Army for a year and is now living in guilt over her actions, unwilling to let you or anyone else in?"

Magnus looked at Pit, dumbfounded. "Y-yeah, something like that," he said at last.

Pit gave him a sympathetic smile. "Just give her time," he said. "She'll come around sometime."

"Sometime is starting to feel like a world away," said Magnus sullenly. "Come on; let's go defeat some _venti."_

XxX

It took them a while to connect the dots, but at last they were able to figure it out. Dark Pit's exclamation of thought was soon backed up with a plan, and before long the three were on their way to defeat the wind spirits.

How? Why, with Sterling's pouch, of course.

"The one thing that the _venti_ are trying to look for has to be the one thing that will be able to destroy them, too," Dark Pit explained, some minutes earlier. "That's the only thing that I can come up with that explains why we reacted so strongly to Magnus opening the bag without even knowing what the heck's even in it."

It wasn't what was _in_ the pouch that was the clue to this, but what could _go_ in it. Making himself subject to experiment, Pit allowed himself to be around the open pouch for long enough for them to see what would happen. The longer Magnus kept open the pouch, the more averse to the thing Pit became; screaming and cursing, he revealed a side that had been a surprise to both Dark Pit and Magnus. A last effect of the open bag: it continuously drew Pit's form _closer_ to it. He was being drawn to it, without his wanting, and before any major damage could be done, Magnus closed the pouch once and for all. Pit became sane again, and they all came to the same conclusion; that this bag would have the same result for _all_ wind spirits, locking them in and making them unable to escape.

"Because that's a _venti's_ greatest fear," said Pit. "To be trapped. All of them are relatively claustrophobic, I feel."

But before they could go any deeper with the details of some sort of plan, Dark Pit halted them all with a hand outward. He looked at Sterling pointedly.

"Wait," the angel said. "I don't want him to be here."

Sterling, who was observing all of this from a casual and non threatening distance, gave the angel a lazy smile. "Does Sterling scare you still?"

"Not even close," Dark Pit said, shoving back memories of their last encounter in the back of his mind. "I just don't trust you."

"Fair enough," Sterling said, smiled still on his face. "Sterling does not trust the angel either."

"What do we do with him, them?" Pit asked him.

"I think I have an idea," said Magnus. "Gaol. She should be coming towards the city now with reinforcements. If I tell her the right things, she'll keep you prisoner, until we can figure out what we need to do with you."

The three advanced towards him, warily. Dark Pit was well aware that, as a wind spirit, he probably wouldn't even be able to do much damage, but if it intimidated the dude, that would have to work. But Sterling looked anything but intimidated. He continued to lean against the wall in that supercilious cat-like way of his, looking at them in amusement.

"What are the three of you going to do to poor Sterling?" he said. "He cannot be touched."

Dark Pit looked at his neck, remembering how his cannon's blast hadn't even touched him. "Magnus, when you get him to the ground, see if you can get that necklace off him," Dark Pit said to the mercenary covertly. "I think it's magical."

With a final nod, Magnus tackled him to them ground.

A few minutes later, not without some yowling from Sterling and hollering from Magnus, the assassin was sitting up on the floor, looking disgruntled and harried. Magnus had succeeded in taking the amulet off of him, and had in turn succeeded in getting him in some bonds that came from some rope that he apparently carried around with him at all times. Magnus looked at the man on the floor in triumph, while Dark Pit and Pit took turns in gazing at his amulet in amazement.

"Where did you get this from?" said Dark Pit, looking up from the table.

"Sterling does not have to tell you anything," he said. For once, he sounded peeved.

"Oh, you can tell us anything we want you to tell us," Dark Pit said, advancing closer. "We've got your magic talisman now—"

"What does it do, exactly?" asked Pit to no one in particular.

"It seems like it protects the wearer from any harm," said Magnus. "Typical."

"But you were still able to touch him," said Pit, confused. "Does that mean-?"

"Touching him isn't the same as hurting him," said Magnus. "And I wasn't able to knock him in the jaw until I got that piece of jewelry from off his neck."

"It's not jewelry," said Sterling, eyes on the trinket. "It's a magical talisman, as the angel said—"

"Whatever," said Dark Pit. "Thing is, you had it, and got from somewhere. Where?"

But before Sterling could answer, a ram's horn sounded off in the distance.

"Wait here," said Magnus, pulling Sterling up with him. "It's Goal."

And that was how Sterling, assassin of the West Provinces, was able to be towed off by a regiment of well-trained mercenaries. It probably wasn't much better moral-wise, but it wasn't like Dark Pit cared all that much for what was right and for what was wrong anyway. He just did what he thought was fair—and seeing his archnemesis (wow, had he just referred to him as an archnemesis? How cliche of him) bound up and being dragged away by someone else. At least now he could rest easy, and the three of them could carry on with their plan.

"What plan?" Pit said as Dark Pit breached the subject.

He was right. They had none. All they had was a pouch with magical properties, a mercenary and a couple of wind spirits who didn't even know their powers. They knew who they had to beat, but they didn't even know where they had to go, or even how far it was or if they'd be able to get there on time before Cupid's potion ran out.

"Well, they have to have some sort of base of operations, right?" Dark Pit tried. "And that means that that's probably where Jana is hiding out, too. She'd be where the Box is—but where that is, I have no idea."

"Do you think she should be in that same field you first found her at?" asked Pit.

"No," Dark Pit replied. "It was too open, too hard to protect."

"How long ago was this?" Magnus said. "You mentioned a Box."

"There was a Box that Jana unearthed," said Dark Pit. "This was about three days ago."

"It was the same Box that released all of the Wind Spirits," supplied Pit.

"Then where in the world are we supposed to start?" groaned Magnus. "She could be anywhere by now."

" _Those little tricksters!"_

Ontop of the hill, they could see down below a small crowd of _venti_ angry enough to spark up a fight. It seemed like the wind spirits that Pit had tried to drive away were back, and looking for vengeance.

"Uh-oh," said Pit.

"Open the bag!" said Dark Pit to Magnus.

" _No!"_ said Pit. Dark Pit and Magnus looked at him in confusion. "Look, they don't seem all that bright. We could stand here and defend ourselves, and try to get some information out of them."

"Right," said Magnus, "but what about me?"

"We'll just say we captured you," said Pit. "And that Sterling got away."

The _venti_ came closer. Instead of rushing at them all at once, the swirled around the three like a windstorm, the air electrifying and tense. They seemed to be waiting for something.

Suddenly a lone wind spirit appeared from the midst of the whirling wind show. It rushed towards them, a formless, gaseous thing, and then took form.

" _You deceivers,"_ said the lone wind spirit. " _You should be punished."_

"My fault!" claimed Pit, hands up in front of him. "I—I thought I saw something!"

The lead _ventus,_ who looked more of an angel like he and Pit than the other, glared at him. His arms were crossed and he gave them a glare that spoke of disgust and disdain. His face wasn't made of skin, so it was hard to tell if he had an age or not, but from Dark Pit could say, it was as if the wind spirit was about 17 or 18, with short hair that appeared lighter than the rest of his form. His eyes were blue and violent.

" _What do you call yourselves?"_ asked the _ventus. "And what is this . . . human doing here with you?"_

The angels were caught off guard. Would they tell him their real names? There was no telling if the winds had even heard of Skyworld or of angels living there, but it was probably best not to take chances.

"My name is Marsh," Dark Pit said, spur of the moment. "And this here is . . . Fen."

Pit turned and looked at him, head cocked sideways in complete incredulity. Dark Pit ignored him.

" _Strange names for_ venti _to take on,"_ said the lead wind spirit. " _They take on earthly elements, and do not have names that borrow from the_ venti _language."_

"Well . . . yeah," said Pit. "We just so happen to be . . . not your average _venti,_ anyway. We're of—a different regiment, and we name ourselves form very obscure and . . . interesting land masses."

" _We see,"_ said the _ventus_ with scrutiny. " _And the human?"_

 _"_ Oh! Him," said Pit, eyes darting to Dark Pit for help.

"We discovered the human by way of our travels," Dark Pit said quickly. "He led us to the other, more lanky human. He told us that _he_ had the pouch that we were looking for, but really, it was him who had it." It was at that moment where Magnus procured the pouch from inside of his pants pocket. Before it had even come into view, the other wind spirits relinquished back automatically.

" _The pouch!"_ cried the swarm of _venti_ dismay.

"Yeah, he had it," said Dark Pit. "So I could not find this out unless I stayed at the house and figured everything out. I called . . . Fen back, telling him of my discovery. We had planned to take the pouch back to . . . Her."

The lead wind spirit's eyes narrowed. " _What puts you above all the others? I am Zephyr, The Liberator's Number One. She would see to it that the leader of her armies would hand it back to her."_

"Yeah, yeah; sure," said Pit. "So . . . are you sure that The Liberator is going to take this thing and destroy it?"

" _Why would we doubt it?"_ replied Zephyr. " _She freed us, she takes care of us, she sent us out there to find it for a reason."_

 _"_ True, true," said Pit, putting a hand to his chin. "But . . . how do you know that she won't just use the pouch to control us all?"

Zephyr looked wary.

"I mean, she _is_ a goddess," said Dark Pit. "And they do have a habit of wanting to be in charge of things."

"So, how do you know that she's not looking for an angle to strike at the perfect time?" Pit reasoned. "She would've had to free us from the Box for _something,_ right? And with all gods, that something is Power. Eventually she will bend us to her will, and then, we won't be as free as we thought we were going to be at the start of this deal."

"How do you know so much about gods?" asked Zephyr. "The two of you seem to have a lot of inside knowledge on this topic. Or are you . . . outsiders?"

"No, not outsiders," said Pit.

"Not outsiders at all," defended Dark Pit.

The Liberator's Number One narrowed his eyes. " _But you bring up a good point,_ " said Zephyr thoughtfully.

"Thank you," said Pit, surprising himself.

" _What should we do with this information?"_

"We plan on taking her down before she takes away our freedom," said Dark Pit. "And store away the pouch in the Box that kept us imprisoned. We just need to know what direction she makes her base at."

" _She dwells on the Mountain Aranes_ ," said Zephyr, pointing somewhere to the right of him. "You will need reinforcements—but, what about the bag?"

"It's your's," said Magnus, bringing it closer to the leader.

Instead, he jumped back, and the rest of the _venti_ with him.

"On second thought, why doesn't he come with us," supplied Pit, "since we can't get close enough to the pouch to even touch it."

" _Fine_ ," said Zephyr begrudgingly. " _But I'll be keeping an eye on you, hum_ an . . ."

After a rallying cry from Zephyr, the _venti-_ plus Magnus team were on their way to the mountains to the East (which was, apparently, North on the compass). Magnus walked in place next to the angels, who were tailing back a little from the group as it was.

"I suppose we didn't have to use it after all," he said.

"Yeah," said Pit, turning over to his darker twin. "That went better than I'd hoped."

"Surprising turn of events, but I'd be watchful, Magnus," said Dark Pit to Magnus. "These _venti_ seem to have a rocky relationship with humans. If they ever got the chance . . ."

"I know," said Magnus. "I'm not stupid."

"So, once we get to Mount Aranes, then what?" asked Pit to them both. "We all defeat Jana?"

"And then we double cross them," said Dark Pit. "They won't see what's coming."

XXX

" _This trek is laborious_ ," said Zephyr, glaring at Magnus. " _Travelling with the human is time consuming._ "

"But necessary," said Dark Pit. "None of us can touch the pouch, remember?"

The rest of the wind spirits had scattered on behalf of Zephyr. He told them to call for reinforcements at the top of the summit of the Aranes, for when they would confront Jana. This made Pit a little nervous. He hoped their plan would run smoothly enough with more _venti_ around them. He felt like this wasn't the "more the merrier" type of situation at all. He hoped the trust they put on the bag's power was solid enough, and would save them in the end.

The moon was high in the sky, and Pit tried to gauge how long it had been in the sky. An hour? Two hours? He tried to be accurate, but it seemed like time was slowly ticking away. Daybreak seemed to be right around the corner, and with it, the last of their power. Cupid had said that they would only be able to be up there a day. What if Dark Pit and he began to turn back human before they had even reached Jana's location? Then Zephyr and all his reinforcements would surround them, and everything they had worked for would have failed.

He looked to Magnus. The mercenary didn't seem to be fairing well in this situation; he was forced to climb up the mountain face while the rest were able to fly up it. _It's all up to you, Magnus,_ thought Pit. _No rush or anything, but do you think you could speed it up a little bit before we're all torn to shreds?_

Dark Pit was keeping up the charade quite well. He acted smoothly, improving when the occasion call for it, making up names of places and other _venti_ friends that he and Pit (or, _Fen)_ had met on their travels. The one time where he slipped up was when he had referred to he and Pit as _brothers;_ apparently, _venti_ were virtually all the same, and the concept of any sort of familial ties was lost on them. But Dark Pit was able to recover quickly, and Zephyr barely suspected of anything.

Still. The Aranes was located in a larger Mountain Range called The Gub, and it seemed like the Aranes was the mountain furthest North from them. It was hard trekking, as Zephyr had pointed out, and Pit couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when considering everything that Magnus was going through because of him.

Pit hoped that nervousness wouldn't push him to ruin their plan before they even got to Aranes' summit.

XXX

Pit's heart leapt up into his throat.

That was a LOT of _venti._

"Are you ready, now?" asked Zephyr to Dark Pit, the de facto leader of this whole operation.

They were perched at the top of the mountain, just a turn and a step away from entering the cave in which Jana made her living. An army of wind spirits floated just behind them, waiting for the command to attack. Magnus was nearby, holding the bag still in one hand, trying to catch his breath after climbing up the latest crag.

Dark Pit nodded.

Enter: Magnus, Pit and Dark Pit, and Zephyr. They had agreed that they would enter the cave first, to gauge the situation, and to make sure Jana was caught off guard when they attacked. When they entered at last, they saw Jana perched in a corner, sitting atop Pandora's Box. Her small hands were poised over an amulet of some sort, and a yellowish sort of light emanated from it, wafting around like smoke. The Liberator's eyes were closed in thought.

"Mistress," said Zephyr.

Jana's eyes flew open. "Zephyr," she purred, slipping off the huge metal thing like a cat. "You're back—with company. Who have you here? And why is there a human with you?"

"The human was the only thing able to touch the pouch when we had found it," said Zephyr.

"You picked a high place to hide," muttered Magnus. It sounded like his strength was returning.

Jana smiled. "I thank you for your efforts, human. Bringing me the key to my precious winds' destruction can enable me to further prevent them from being taken away from me."

Dark Pit snuck a side look to Zephyr, and his gaze was distrustful. Zephyr's expression read the same amount of mistrust, and Pit was impressed. Trying to gain the leader's support until the very end? That was great acting.

"And tell me, human; what is your name?"

"Magnus," he said, then flinched, probably realizing that he should've lied about his true name a bit too late.

"Magnus," said Jana, the name rolling off her tongue. "And what spurred you to ally yourself with the Trickster Goddess and her fellow supporters?"

"Nothing, really," said Magnus. "Just hope in the recognition in the eyes of the Gods of Skyworld."

Here's where the lying came in. If Magnus had really said what his true purpose was in coming here, or that he had been forced to carry the pouch for Zephyr's gain, then Jana would've disposed of him as soon as she was through with him. But now that he had lied, she had a reason to have him live.

Jana did something that Pit did not expect then—she laughed. "Oh, silly human! You think I ally myself with the Divine Force of the Overworld?"

Magnus hesitated. "I didn't know what to really think—"

"You'd be wrong. I serve a worthier force than that of Skyworld—The One Who Will Turn the Earth, in fact. He demands an army, and I plan to give him one, and have it secure for him to control at his resurrection."

Pit and Dark Pit were not the only ones surprised at this new bit of information. Zephyr's eyes glowed with hatred, "You did not tell us that you were going to _use_ us for some—higher purpose."

"I felt like I didn't need to," Jana said, her gaze like narrow beams hoping to snuff out defiance. "You owe your allegiance to _me,_ and you will do whatever it is I like."

"No," said Zephyr. "I will not have it."

And before Jana could say another word, Zephyr had called in the reinforcements. Pit, Dark Pit and Magnus scrambled out of the way, and Jana was cornered.

"Now?" asked Magnus, bag still in his grasp, fingers poised and ready to open it.

"No . . . I don't think so," said Dark Pit, assessing the situation. Zephyr was shouting accusations at his former commander, and Jana was shrinking back in panic. "I want to keep Jana for questioning, maybe keep her in the Lunar Sanctum, and see what else she knows about this "One Who Will Turn the Earth". But that doesn't mean that we necessarily have to stop them all from hassling her a little bit. Let them have their revenge for a bit."

Magnus and Pit nodded their agreement.

The _venti_ attacked.

They ripped, tore and clawed at her. They made her kneel on the ground, and they pushed her about, furious and reckless with anger. Pit felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was nothing—had nothing in the way of Power without her winds. If she was allied with The One Who Will Turn the Earth, then she was probably only allied against him because she had no other option; any promises of power that he had made to her she probably took in an instant by failing to raise for him an army.

Pit didn't know what she had done to lose her powers, but he couldn't help but feel like somehow it wasn't all her fault. She had put her trust in these _venti,_ and they were about to tear her to shreds. What would happen if the same happened with her and the One Who Will Turn the Earth? There was injustice out there, those who avoided being convicted by the Light, and Pit knew that it was time to seek out those who deserved judgement.

"Enough," Pit muttered. To Magnus, he said, "Open the bag."

Magnus did as he said. The bag opened, and the _venti_ hadn't even had time to react. The bag sucked them in like a vacuum cleaner, just as quick and just as noisy, an array of raspy screams and high pitched whistling from spirits who shouldn't have chosen to walk the earth as it was.

Soon, Jana was left standing there by herself in the middle of the cave. She looked around wildly, realizing that now she wasn't being attacked anymore, and looked around to find her saviors. When she saw them, however, she drew back. "Y-you . . ."

"Don't worry, we aren't going to hurt you," said Pit, coming close to her. Dark Pit shot him a dirty look, _What the hell do you think you're doing?_ "We just need to ask you a few questions."

"You came in with Zephyr," said Jana shakily, holding her shredded up tunic close to her. "He came to kill me, he and his army, and now he's gone—"

"Yeah, we took them away," said Pit, and, gesturing to the bag in Magnus' hand, "with this."

Jana looked at him, clearly confused. "Why? Zephyr was your leader. And now he's—"

"We don't answer to him," said Dark Pit, stepping forward. "We answer to The Gods of Skyworld, the very gods that you seem to be opposed to."

"Oh," said Jana, frowning. "Well, great."

He bent down, inspecting her forlorn and pathetic state. "What, you don't recognize me?"

Jana blinked at his gaseous figure, her face hard with suspicion and hurt. The two of them didn't say anything for the next several seconds, and Pit wasn't eager for once to break the silent staring contest between them.

The sun beyond the mountaintop had broken free from its horizon by now, leering its searching beams of light to the open mouth of the cave now. Right when the light hit his hands, he could see his skin at last returning to normal. The gaseousness of his form regained its solidity like cold air freezing into ice; he suddenly felt trapped, restricted. Nothing felt right; not the breath in his lungs or the heart beating in his chest; he felt wrong, like he needed to be emptied. He shivered, and felt sick to his stomach.

He looked over to his twin. Dark Pit didn't look much better. In fact, he had a bit of a greenish tint to him. He stumbled back from Jana, paralyzed with pain. He grabbed at his stomach, yet all through this his eyes were locked on the goddess, held in fast.

Jana's eyes finally hit upon recognition. She blinked, "You-that angel-"

"Yeah," said Dark Pit. He swallowed, saying with immense effort,"Who is—the One Who Will Turn the Earth?"

Jana's eyes narrowed. "Oh, yeah, like I'm going to tell _you."_

Dark Pit held up a hand, which wavered halfway between gas and solid form. "Yes. Well. Touché."

Then promptly threw up.

"Wow. That was . . . unexpected," said Magnus, looking away awkwardly.

"Yeah, you're telling me," said Jana.

"S-Stay where you are," said Pit, trying to get a connection to Palutena before he ended up like Dark Pit. "Magnus, could you-?"

"Got it, Angel-face," said Magnu. He got out his ropes from his belt and looked steadily at the Trickster Goddess. Jana stuck out her tongue, _Come and get me, muscle man,_ like, and Pit hoped that she wouldn't be _too_ much of a problem.

"P-Palutena?" said Pit a bit weakly. He sat down on the ground, feeling dizzy, and tried to avert his gaze from Dark Pit or his pool of throw up. "Viridi? We've got the pouch, and have Jana cornered."

"The pouch?" asked Viridi in her typical loud voice. Her voice was scratchy like a bad radio signal. "What's that?"

"A way to defeat the wind spirits," said Pit. "Viridi, we have Jana, and we don't want her to get away—"

"Oh, shut up about it," said Jana in defeat. "I know I'm at the end of my rope. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh. Well, great," said Pit. "Well, can you get Palutena and beam Dark Pit and I out of here? And maybe Cupid too—I don't really know how we should deal with Jana—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," said Viridi. Pit could imagine her rolling her eyes right then and there. "Give me a few."

Pit felt his connection break with her then, and he stood up shakily. Dark Pit was heaving out the last of his breakfast from a day ago, and Pit walked over to him tentatively.

"Dark Pit, you oka-"

Dark Pit stuck out a finger to him, not looking at him at all. He gulped . . . painfully, it seemed, and Pit wanted to melt in fear of how long it would take him to be reduced to the same state he was in. " _Don't_ take another step, Pit-for-Brains," grunted Dark Pit. "You do _not_ need to get crazy sick like me-"

Then the dark angel promptly hurled once more.

Pit stepped back from him slowly, slightly glad that his brother had excused him. Pit turned to Magnus, standing a couple of paces back from him, still holding the pouch in hand. Spirits rising, he thought about all the good they had done today-wiping out the wind spirits from the earth-or at least from this vicinity. They would have saved lives, he and Dark Pit.

That, and Dark Pit had called Pit his brother. Pit beamed. Not just that-had even _slipped up_ and called him his brother! They were making progress, thought Pit to the sound of Dark Pit's retching in the background.

But none of this would've been possible without-

Pit tackle-hugged the mercenary. "Thanks, Magnus."

"Um, Angel-face?" said Magnus, looking down at the now-fully solid light angel before him. "Is the other one going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Pit. "Just the aftereffects of this potion we took to become wind spirits, is all." Pit suddenly thought of that naseatingly large breakfast he and Dark Pit had eaten before going out to defeat the wind spirits, and decided he hated Cupid all the more for it.

"Stupid Cupid," said Pit, already feeling sick just thinking of food . . . or anything solid, for that matter.

"Um, what was that?"

"Oh, it's nothing," said Pit, gripping Magnus hard. He was surprised that Magnus was letting him hug him for this long. "Just had a big breakfast on my way over here."

"Right. Which means _you_ might be feeling the effects all over my shirt in a few moments?"

Pit laughed, relieved. They had done it; they had gotten the vessel they had needed for information, and the weapon they needed to wipe out the rest of the _venti._ They were finally one step closer to defeating these cryptic forces down on earth, and one step closer to figuring out how this One to Turn the Earth was. He hadn't felt this accomplished in a while. "Not yet. But if I do, I'll be sure not to get any throw-up on you."

"Ah. Thanks." Magnus paused. "Can you get off of me now?"

"Why, not used to being hugged by divine beings?"

"No, I just don't like to be hugged."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to keep hugging you until you hug me back."

" . . . "

All Pit was able to get back was a hesitant pat on the head.

Pit drew back. It would have to do.

"Thanks, Magnus," he said, sincere. "You've helped us a lot."

"Yeah, yeah," said Magnus. "Whatever. Just—next time, call in before you whisk me off to climb the face of a mountain, got it? Sheesh."

"Well, you helped save the world from future danger."

"Is that right?" said Magnus, skeptical. "I have a feeling that's not all we're going to see of those wind spirits."

"Yeah, well . . . at least there's no more in the area. We cleared them out pretty well."

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" said Magnus in exasperation. "Here on the Overworld, we'll still have to look out for them. So, you may be free from danger, but we won't." He held out the magic bag. "Here."

Pit looked at it, but did not reach out to take it. "No . . . you keep it," said Pit. "I'm not sure about the next time we'll be able to make it down on earth again, but I'll feel better if you hold onto it. You can help keep the earth safe."

Magnus looked at Pit sternly. "Isn't that sort of your job? Keeping the Overworld safe?"

"There's a lot to keep track of," said Pit. "And a lot of Overworld to protect."

Magnus grunted, stuffing the pouch in one of his pockets. "Alright then. Well. No doubt I'll be seeing you again." He looked up to the sky. "But you two angels helped out a lot."

Pit brightened again. "That's what we're here for."

"Well, do more of it, alright? The Earth has been acting up, almost temperamental. Earthquakes, volcanoes erupting, dying crops and forests, left and right. Nothing is acting right. You'd do well to look into it."

"Right. We will," said Pit. He looked over to Dark Pit. He had his head to the floor, clutching his stomach, heaving dryly. He seemed to be doing . . . better, but how long that state would last was beyond Pit.

Pit felt his connection open up, and three lights shown around him, Dark Pit and Jana simultaneously. Pit felt a warm breeze muss up the back his head, giving him peace, reminding him of home.

He waved good bye to Magnus.

"Say hello to Gaol for me!" he quipped.

 **XXX**

 **A/N: AHHH THAT WAS SO LONG! LONGER THAN CUPID'S CHAPTER! WOW!**

 **I DIDN'T EVEN** _ **MEAN**_ **FOR THAT TO BE AN ARC! BUT THEN IT BECAME AN ARC! AND IT WAS AGONIZING HOW LONG THAT WAS!**

 **Nonetheless, I enjoyed writing about Magnus. I'm going to have to find out where I can squeeze him and Goal in together again.**

 **Anyway . . . the next chapters are going to be going lightning-quick (heh), so buckle your seatbelts, folks. This ride's going to be bumpy.**

 **I can see Magnus writing poetry. He's such a teddy bear when it comes to Gaol! I ship it!**

 **Thoughts? Speculations? Theories? Reviews are treasured and give a struggling writer motivation XD**


	12. Out of the Frying Pan

_**"You have no idea how embarrassing it is to be an angel who cannot fly on his own. So thanks for your help. Without you, I'd be finished!"**_ **\- Pit to Palutena, Chapter 1**

 **A/N: Ugh, okay. I just found the very epic prologue I was going to have for this story, mixed in with all of my other chapters and unfinished ideas. Good-ness. Hopefully I'm not this scramble-minded at all in the future :P**

 **Muchas gracias to my reviewers out there! You all know you're awesome!**

 **XxX**

"Oh, ew. It's you."

A day and a half later, Dark Pit was in the Lunar Sanctum, looking at the trickster goddess from the other side of the glass. He frowned and crossed his arms at her.

"Why you say it like that?"

Jana rolled her eyes. "The last time I saw you, you had thrown up, like, right in front of me."

Dark Pit grimaced. When he and Pit had gotten back, they had each taken turns barfing their brains out—and he meant that quite literally. It was as if his body was rejecting every ounce of his being that wasn't made out of air—which was expected, based on Cupid's analyses of the aftereffects of his potion-but hearing it was much easier to handle than actually experiencing it. All in all, he figured it was a great bonding exercise, since neither Viridi _nor_ Palutena really wanted anything to do with them while they got every ounce of those cursed pancakes they had eaten the day before out of their system. Dark Pit and Pit had been locked up in the same room for about an hour and an half, until Dark Pit felt more empty and more exhausted than he had felt in a great while. It was then when Viridi had entered in with the pitchers of water, commanding them both to drink until they felt like they would puke again, in order to re-hydrate them for the rest of the day. But the only other thing he had done that day was sleep in the dormitories with Pit—a deserved rest. Right when he woke up, however, he felt refreshed and determined; bothered by the new piece of information that Jana had presented them with before being defeated—or rather, hopelessly outnumbered. Memories of his time waiting for Cupid while he made the potion for them bubbled up into his mind, as he looked at the Trickster Goddess from behind the diamond-enforced glass of one of the cells within the Lunar Sanctum. He readied his mind to do whatever it took to get the answers he needed that would probably help connect the dots and be useful for future reference.

"Well, now you're here, and you have to answer my questions."

Jana looked at him leeringly. "I don't have to answer anything you say."

Dark Pit started. "What in Skyworld do you mean by that?"

Jana stuck out her chin. "You can't make me do anything that I don't want to tell you."

Dark Pit grit his teeth. "You have no power."

"But I still have my purpose," said Jana confidently. "And you have no idea how to bring back the wind spirits unless I talk."

Dark Pit's face hardened. "I can _make_ you talk."

Jana blinked at him in surprise, and Dark Pit was a bit surprised himself. He didn't quite know what he meant by that statement, but thinking about what he'd actually meant sort of scared him. He wouldn't harm her if she weren't able to defend herself . . . would he? He was the good guy, or one of them, wasn't he? Any fight that he'd get into, he told himself, would have to be a fair one, no matter what the stakes were. He wouldn't give into senseless cruelty for no reason at all.

"But let's talk first," said Dark Pit, squatting down to her level on the floor. "And see what happens. If those spirits aren't in your control, then what's the point? Why not tell us how to bring them all back into the Box?"

"You're not very good at being good cop," said Jana. She looked absolutely furious with him. "And you're not very good at getting the info, either."

"Who are you protecting? The One Who Will Turn the Earth?"

"He needs no protecting," said Jana begrudgingly. "He will use his armies when he is resurrected from his sleep, and only then will the things come to pass as they should."

"That's interesting," said Dark Pit, eyes narrowing. "The One is sleeping, and he needs armies to help with the Turning of the Earth?"

"That's right."

"That would make you his lieutenant, then, huh? How mad do you think he'll be once he finds out that you lost control of the _venti?_ "

Jana's lips grew tight. "How do you know that wasn't all a part of the plan?"

"It doesn't seem like much of a plan to me," said Dark Pit measuredly. "It seems like The One put you in charge of digging up the Box, then in charge of the _venti,_ sending them out to wreak havoc until He wakes up."

"Yeah, but how do you know that's their mission? To wreak havoc?"

Dark Pit's mind was whirring. _To wreak havoc? And that's all? That couldn't be it . . . right?_

"Besides, what do you want to know all this information for, anyway? You've got the pouch. Soon, you'll be able to capture all the wind spirits you want, right? Using that little glamour you put on, disguising yourselves as _venti?"_

"You know it's not all that simple," said Dark Pit. "We as _venti_ can't hold the pouch ourselves. And the wind spirits could be anywhere in the world by now—too many of them and too far to track. No, I want to know how to summon them all back to one place—and to get them to fit so nice in that little Box of yours." Jana stayed silent. "But you're not budging."

"Nope," said Jana, arms crossed.

"Why? You're defeated, you're in this cage-"

"Because _I don't like you,"_ said Jana. "And even if I'm locked up, that doesn't mean the mission is incomplete. Everything will go as planned, whether or not the wind spirits are under my command or not."

 _I can_ make _you talk,_ Dark Pit thought again.

"Do you know who the Winged One is?" asked Dark Pit.

Jana looked at him blankly. "No. Let me guess, let me guess: is it you?"

"No," said Dark Pit, motionless. "But he _is_ the one who is supposed to stop the Turning of the Earth." At this, Jana's face gave way to surprise. "Weren't expecting _that,_ now were you?"

"Is it that lighter one?" said Jana, panic stretching her voice. "He's the only other person with wings I've seen. Is it him?"

"Why should I tell you?" said Dark Pit nastily. Jana looked discontent; _Good,_ he thought. "You aren't going to tell me more about the One Who Will Turn the Earth—even though he probably chose to withhold the information about the Winged One from you, his most _trusted_ lieutenant—"

"Don't talk about him like that!" said Jana, steaming, her small face pinched with indignation. "He must know, he just didn't chose to tell me, but that doesn't mean he doesn't _trust_ me—"

"What do you know about dirty magic?" fired Dark Pit. Jana looked at him confusion. "Dark magic. The type of magic that has to do with the earth being polluted. Does it have anything to do with The One Who Will Turn the Earth?"

Jana was done answering questions, but her deep frown conveyed to Dark Pit that she might have more information on that.

"Does the He have anything to do with Eden's death?"

Jana's eyes darted up to his. "Who?"

"There was a tree nymph, about two weeks ago, maybe, that was killed because this river was being polluted, with this black, sticky stuff. Dark magic. Was that you?"

"No, of course it wasn't me!" shouted Jana. "I _have_ no powers, remember?"

 _That's right,_ thought Dark Pit. _Which means . . . "_ Who was it, then?" he demanded.

"I . . . don't know," said Jana, looking honestly confused.

"Is He harvesting the Overworld? To Turn it? Is he using other gods, other magic users, to help him turn it? Why does he want to Turn it? What does that even mean? And what does that mean to him? Why does he want to pollute the earth-?"

" _I don't know!"_ shouted Jana, eyes blazing. "All I know is that I found him when before I had nothing. No powers, no allies, and I could feel my presence about to be taken from this world . . . then He found me, gave me purpose, told me I'd inherit _everything,_ if I helped him summon an army and further his Turning. But I don't know anything else, for Skyworld's sake. Now will you get off my back?"

Dark Pit stepped back, looking at Jana in appraisal. _Motive: check,_ he thought. "I think that'd be possible," he said. _Can you handle the heat?_ "Thank you."

XxX

"What's up, bro?"

Dark Pit was tackled from behind by a random Pit. "Oh, goddesses. Where in the world did that come from?"

"From YOU!" said Pit, his arms wrapped around his brother's neck like a chimpanzee's. "Remember? Before we had captured Jana in the cave, you called me your brother? Don't you remember, Pittoo? _Remember?"_

Dark Pit DID recall that instance, but he was going to try and play it off as if he didn't. After that repulsive ordeal, he was trying to get in some kick-back time, but Pit had found him in Viridi's Hot Springs. Dark Pit was sure that Pit would make his way here _eventually-_ it _was_ Pit, after all, and the kid was attracted to Hot Springs like an addict was to drugs-but for some reason Dark Pit had been _sure_ that he would be able to get in at least a _few_ moments of peace and quiet before the other angel had found it. And right now, he didn't feel like humoring the lighter angel. Yes, better to reply in the negative.

"Um, no," said Dark Pit.

"Come _on!"_ said Pit, shaking his shoulders. "You were talking to that lead wind-guy, what's-his-face-"

"Zephyr," said Dark Pit.

"So you do remember!"

"No, I don't, I just remember the name of the guy that hiked all the way up the mountain with us and Magnus."

"Well, nevermind that, then," said Pit, burying his head in Dark Pit's neck in disappointment. "That was actually really fun what we had to do."

"What do you mean, it was fun? We just spent the past 4 hours puking up that horrible breakfast that Cupid fed us _right_ before we went out to the Overworld-"

"Okay, so you noticed that too?" said Pit, still behind him. "Because I was starting to think that Cupid fed us a large breakfast just so that we would feel the effects of his potion even more."

"Of course I did," mumbled Dark Pit. "He was taking advantage of our ridiculously large appetites as "pubescent adolescents" to cause us the most pain when we started to become solid again." As an afterthought, he muttered, "All because we wouldn't 'spend the night' like he'd originally opted . . ."

"Stupid Cupid," said Pit, not for the first time. And before Dark Pit knew it, he was caught in the throes of laughter. "Ha! Stupid Cupid! Dark Pit, I said that at the cave!"

"Uh-huh. I'm sure you did. Now will you-"

"And it's funny, because I didn't realize until NOW how much that rhymes!"

"Hilarious, Pit-Stain. Now will you please-"

"I didn't even mean to DO that!" Dark Pit was suddenly shaking from the laughter that came peeling off from his twin who was still perched behind him.

"PIT! Will you get off my back? I mean, literally? This is starting to feel weird."

"Right-sorry," said Pit, clambering off Dark Pit's bare back. Dark Pit shrugged the boy off and went to the other side of the pool. But the angel just wouldn't shut up.

"Overall, though, it wasn't the _worst_ mission we had with each other. But you've got to tell me, bro-"

"Should I expect that nickname to be a regular thing with you, by the way?" said Dark Pit testily. "'Bro'?"

"Hey, it's better than Pittoo, right?"

Dark Pit supposed he had a point.

" _Anyway,_ you've got to tell me _what_ in the world were those _names_ about! I mean I know you made them on the spot, but seriously? _Fen?_ You just _had_ to give me the gayest name in the world, didn't you?"

"Fen is not a gay name," said Dark Pit, indignant. "A _fen_ happens to be marshy lowlands-"

"And 'Marsh'?" said Pit. "I mean, come on! Those were the most out of character names you could have thought of! It's a good thing the _venti_ weren't suspicious enough to see under our cover-"

"Yeah, well at least I gave us a cover," spat Dark Pit. "You were just standing there, looking at me for help like I had everything figured out!"

"Right! You're the plan person!" reasoned Pit. "I'm just the 'shoot everything until it dies' person! I'm not a leader! I'm a follower!"

"That's for sure," said Dark Pit, rolling his eyes. But his lips were perked up in a slight smile.

"I mean, I just go in and charge!" Pit said to a gradually retreating Dark Pit. He was floating on his back now, making effort to ignore the hardest person in the world to ignore. He figured he could do it, however. He knew he could. He _had_ done it with Viridi. "You point and I shoot! Is that such a bad thing?"

Dark Pit had to wonder if Pit actually came to the hot spring to relax. That was ridiculous, though; since the Pit that Dark Pit knew never relaxed unless he was forced to on account of some forced injury or such. Pit was a spring, always ready to go, and his mouth was a motor that always seemed to be running . . .

After Dark Pit had decided not to reply, Pit on his end didn't say much after that. Dark Pit supposed he wasn't the type to talk unless someone was actively listening and responding to. _At last,_ thought Dark Pit. _Peace._ It was a lesson that he was sure Pit needed to learn, as well.

Suddenly he felt a warm sprinkle of water descend on his chest. Dark Pit, caught in a pleasantly light doze, grew confused in his sleep. "What the hell?" he said. "There aren't any fountains in this spring-are there-?"

He opened his eyes and looked up. The water trickling down on his was yellow, sure enough, but it definitely wasn't the healing water of the hot spring that was descending on him.

Dark Pit looked into the cat-smile face of his supposedly 'lighter' twin.

"PIT-STAIN! I'M GONNA MURDER YOU THIS TIME!"

XxX

"The only thing we have to figure out now is how to work the Box that Jana so mercifully left for us down there."

The four of them were gathered around at the weapons altar in Palutena's Temple. But unfortunately, doing good wasn't always all that easy. Palutena was holding her chin, looking down and deep in thought, mulling over the information that the angels had returned back with after defeating Jana and that Dark Pit had gotten back from interrogating Jana.

"That's not all we need to figure out," said Dark Pit. "We need to figure out why Jana always goes cold when she's talking about the One Who Will Turn the Earth, and whether she has any connection with the ones who've been polluting the earth with Dark Magic down on the Overworld."

"Wait, the One Who Will Turn the Earth . . . ?" Palutena said, a bit distant.

"Yeah," said Dark Pit casually. "You know, the person who will begin the Turning? The guy the Winged One has to go in and stop?"

Palutena shot him a fierce look. " _Where_ in Skyworld did you hear about _that?"_

Viridi glanced at the dark angel and the goddess both. "Wait, what? What about the Winged One-?"

"The Winged One?" said Pit, lost. "Um, is that—"

"No," Palutena said, her voice trembling. She stalked towards Dark Pit, gripping the front of his _chiton_ with one tight fist. " _Where_ did you hear about that piece of info, Pittoo?"

Dark Pit's voice felt stuck in the base of his throat. He could see, out the corner of his eye, Pit and Viridi looking at them both, awestruck. He didn't know who this person in front of him was; her face looked the same, but her blue eyes were filled with a cold hatred he'd never seen before—had never seen directed towards _anybody._ Also . . .

"That's not my name," Dark Pit put simply.

Palutena didn't flinch. "Don't avoid the question," she said.

"You and Cupid were talking about it," Dark Pit said, his voice level. "When he was making us that potion. It was really late; Pit and I were in the other room. I figured now would be a good time to bring it up." He frowned. "You said that Pit might be the Winged One. That there's a prophecy, and that Pit needs to be the one to fulfill it—"

"I have a prophecy about me?" Pit said. "About—"

"You don't need to know about that," Palutena said. She relinquished her hold from Dark Pit's tunic, but her eyes were still on him. "Not now, at least."

"Palutena, what is this?" said Viridi, stepping towards her angrily. "You can't seriously be keeping information from me about something that might _harm_ the Earth—you know that's in my jurisdiction."

"And about me," said Pit, his voice low. "Why have you been keeping things from us?"

"Because, you didn't need to know," said Palutena, for the second time. "These things don't need to be happening yet. Nothing is certain—"

"But things are already happening!" Viridi insisted. "Jana could be working with this guy! There are rivers down there—whole ecosystems being demolished, because of this outbreak of Dirty Magic, and you're—"

"I said, not right now," said Palutena, her eyes hard and steely. "If the world were truly at risk because of the information I never told you, then that would be a different matter. But the secrets I kept—about Pit's prophecy, about the Turning—these are things that I kept hidden for the greater good. I needed to ensure that the course of things were handled, and that meant keeping you in the dark." Her eyes went from Viridi, to Dark Pit, then to Pit, and with an empty phrase, she said, "I'm sorry."

Viridi threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Like hell you are," she muttered under her breath. She turned away, looking at the opposite wall, trying to figure out what to do next. Her head snapped suddenly to Dark Pit. "Arlon says he could use your help. He's said that he's almost through with the necklaces. The sooner we get down there with those things, the better."

"Why aren't I surprised?" sighed Palutena.

Viridi whirled on her. "Excuse me, what was that?"

Palutena looked at her, arms crossed. "I haven't forgotten about the First War I fought with Medusa. You abandoned me then—and it's beginning to look like a repeat now."

Viridi advanced towards her. "Okay, let me get this straight—we weren't even _allies_ during that time. I was protecting my _own_ domain on the Overworld, thank you very much. I'm not going to "abandon" you—"she used air quotes for this—"so please- try not to get your panties in a bunch."

Palutena didn't look satisfied with her answer, but then again, she didn't look satisfied with much nowadays. Still, she didn't give a comeback and Viridi took it upon herself to continue. "Besides, I've been busy. You know, saving those precious humans you so care for?" Palutena her a hard look, but Viridi's look was harder. "Pyrrhon still remains a threat, and fortunately Arlon is almost done with those Flage necklaces. I'd like to take Dark Pit to help me finish, if that's all fine and dandy with you?"

"That's fine," said Palutena, her voice terse, and she began to walk off. Then, as if remembering something, she stopped and said, without looking at Pit, "Pit, I've been getting reports down in the Overworld about some loose Underworld forces wreaking havoc in one of the towns. 'That First Town', I think was the name of it. Can you go and get fitted for the weapon altar before I take you down to check it all out?"

"Sure," replied Pit, feeling a bit hallow. Palutena nodded to herself, then stalked out the room.

Viridi stood there for a moment longer, waiting for the Goddess to get far enough away before deciding that certain matters needed to be discussed before she left.

"Pit, can I speak with you?"

XxX

Pit, who was looking after his matron goddess in confusion, wondering at her sudden antagonism towards his twin and towards, turned his head towards the Nature Goddess. Her face was hard and scrunched up, and Pit would've been afraid to speak, though he knew that her anger was not directed towards him, but towards Palutena. Still, an unhappy Viridi was hard to face. He didn't like the thought of possibly getting the brunt of her anger.

"Yeah?"

"Something's up," said Viridi shortly.

Dark Pit snorted. "Yeah, you think? The freaking Goddess of Light just freaking _manhandled_ me."

"Shut up," said Viridi, on impulse. "Pit, can you think of any other times where Palutena has acted out of character?"

It was strange, but Pit had. Other than Dark Pit's recent encounter, Pit could add several other incidences where Palutena wasn't quite herself. It wasn't until then that Pit had actually thought of it as a problem—a potential danger for the future. "She's been extremely reserved, lately," Pit said. "Talking less, keeping to herself. She has a shorter temper now, too. And I've rarely seen her get mad."

Viridi nodded in consideration. "I've noticed those things too, among others. She's been getting headaches, and suffering from—memory loss."

"Memory loss?" Pit said abruptly. "What do you mean by that?"

"The other day, she was _freaking out,"_ said Viridi gravely. "She opened a connection with me, asking me where you and Dark Pit had gone, like she had _forgotten_ that you guys had been turned into wind spirits and had gone down to the Overworld to investigate. It took me ten minutes to explain and calm her down."

Pit was stunned. Besides her temperament going awry, which could easily be explained away by some past experience that might have been bothering her, Palutena was suffering _mentally_ as well—which was uncommon for a god.

"I don't know what it even means," said Viridi. "I've never seen this before."

"Viridi, do you think Lady Palutena is—sick?"

Viridi looked at the angel in front of her wonderingly. "Maybe."

"What could it be from?" Dark Pit asked out loud.

"Lady Palutena's been especially moody ever since we got back from the Underwater Palace," said Pit.

"Why do you think?" Viridi asked.

"The prince who ruled there—Nereus was his name—seemed to upset her. He tried to explain it to me, why she was so evasive towards him and stuff. But it was all very vague. He seems to have done something, a long time ago, that affected her deeply. Cupid seemed to have a part in it too, but I don't know if she knows that. She mostly blames Nereus for it, I think-whatever 'it' is."

"Maybe it's just that," said Viridi. She looked anxious, her gold-hazel eyes wide with worry. She looked to each boy confidentially, seeking some sort of reassurance from them. "Maybe she's just worried—all of these life and death situations that you and Dark Pit have been going through, and these ghosts from the past—maybe it's all just wearing on her."

"I doubt it," Dark Pit said. "That doesn't explain her forgetting where Pit and I had gone."

"Or the headaches," said Pit.

There was a contemplative silence. Pit didn't want Dark Pit to be right, but there was no use denying the truth.

"Look, I know that Palutena and I have our differences," said Viridi seriously. "We've bumped heads in the past, and we're sure to do it again in the future. But I wouldn't want something to happen to her. We're allies, you know? Maybe not friends, but . . ."

Something was definitely up. There was something wrong with Palutena, mentally, emotionally, and gods knew what else besides that, and they needed to figure out what it was.

Before it was too late.

"Pit? Pit, are you ready to go?"

Pit looked in the direction where the voice was coming from. Palutena was just in the next room. Had she heard . . .?

He looked down. "Give me a minute," Pit called. "Let me visit the weapons altar, first."

Before he turned to go, Viridi caught him with a hand to the shoulder. "Be _careful,"_ Viridi told him.

"And see if you can find out more about this 'Turning of the Earth' thing," said Dark Pit. "She's going to have to spill about it eventually-p-and you should be the first one to know about it when she does."

Pit turned away from them both. Viridi had told him to be careful, like he should be wary of Palutena, but it wasn't like she was dangerous. The best word he could come up with to describe her right then was merrily sick. Palutena would never hurt him intentionally . . .

XxX

Minutes later, Pit was in the air once more, excited to fly again. But then again, when the angel was up in the air, soaring over clouds and the lands o the Overworld, it was hard for him _not_ to feel excited and bubbly. The only thing that made him uneasy was the recent confrontation Palutena had had with Dark Pit. All these secrets? All these _prophecies?_ But that would have to wait. There was evil down whose butts needed kicking. And Pit's feet were ready for the job.

Unfortunately, he couldn't catch a break. Pit couldn't even lose himself in the levity of flying, since the weather that day absolutely _sucked._ It was pouring, the rain coming down in thick sheets, and it sounded like it was on the edge of a storm.

"Dang. I hate flying in the rain," Pit mumbled. "Makes my wings all damp." He was one of those people whose mood changed with the weather. Him living in a constant, 75 degrees and sunny climate usually pertained to his cheerful mood. But rain had the effect of making him grumble a lot.

" _It's only for a little while, Pit,"_ Palutena said telepathically. " _Besides, it's spring. It tends to rain when its spring."_

"It feels like summer to me," Pit muttered. "It's too humid out to be spring, and it looks like there's going to be a storm soon."

" _You'll survive. We need to get down to the Overworld as soon as possible to verify some new reports of Underworld creatures attacking That First Town."_

"Don't you think it's kind of sad that we _still_ don't have a clue about what the _true_ name of that town is?" mentioned Pit. "I mean, we've had to save it—how many times? And now we've been reduce to simply calling it . . . 'That First Town'."

 _Not really_ , Palutena was about to reply, before another thought stopped her in her tracks. The clouds above him were fast swelling with rain, thick and tall and so dark they were black. A streak of lightning dashed its way down to the earth below, its descent beginning at a place not so far from where Pit was. It was followed by the roaring sound of thunder, both anomalies making Pit jump.

" _This is Zeus' doing_ ," Pit heard Palutena mutter. " _I know it_. _And to think, I thought he was on my side. . ."_

"Who's Zeus?" Pit asked nervously. "He sounds familiar."

" _He should. He's the God of the Sky—and very powerful. He helped you defeat Medusa in the past—quite the change from whatever he's trying to do right now."_

"What's he trying to do?" Pit asked, becoming uneasy. "Kill me!?"

" _That's what it looks like,"_ Palutena said. " _I can't imagine why he would try to stop us from preventing this new force of Underworlders that's destroying the humans. Which is weird, because he's always been relatively friendly in regards to the humans. Especially since—"_

Pit cried out, a stroke of lightning almost hitting him.

"Th-that one was close!" Pit stuttered.

" _I agree_ ," Palutena said, a hint of fear in her own voice. " _I think we should save this mission for another day!"_

"Whatever you say, Lady Palutena! Zeus seems extremely angry!"

" _Let's go, then—"_

And then, in the most god-produced effect in the universe, Pit was struck down by lightning.

Palutena couldn't even decipher the screech that came from her on mouth. She was pretty sure that she had called for his name. Quickly descending, Pit fell unconscious, the Power of Flight having no effect over him no matter how hard she tried to initiate it.

Palutena let out a breath, realizing she had been holding it all this time. Pit was falling—fast—but there was still a considerable distance between him and the ground. He was not located above the city yet; all that lay beneath him was sprawling forest. With a whisk of her hand, she summoned her Beam of Light to whisk Pit out of the sky.

Her Light shown down on the falling angel—at the same time another beam of light surrounded him as well. It obviously interfered with hers, its pink-softness overtaking her bright-gold almost immediately. Before she knew it, Pit was out of the sky, out of danger – or so it seemed.

She whipped around, to the place where Pit would usually appear after she had beamed him back from one of his missions. But he was nowhere to be found.

Palutena slammed her staff on the ground in rage. She marched to the Main Hall of Skyworld, not knowing who to even yell at first. The centurions scrambled at her feet, asking her questions that she largely ignored and answered herself. She knew who had taken Pit. That pink beam of light was _distinctly_ familiar. And she knew now that the storm had been some sort of distraction, or at least some sort of ploy to get her attention. But what she _didn't_ know was whether her angel was alright. The Power of Flight hadn't worked on him when she'd tried to direct it in his direction gain—despite his being unconscious, his wings should have lit up the way they usually did. But they hadn't, and Palutena worried that Pit wouldn't be able to fly again after being struck by lightning. _S_ _truck by lightning,_ the thought echoed. And that's what she feared for the most—the not knowing.

She allowed her emotions to galvanize her rather than paralyze, however. Her anger taking the place of her fear, she whipped around from the Reflecting Glass to get herself ready in the Main Hall. She knew what needed to come next. This was war, but she couldn't do it without Viridi, as much as the thought bothered her. Under her breath, the goddess muttered, surly, "Zeus . . . Cupid . . .whatever you might be planning, either together or separately, is already driving my angel to the limit. But you never had any quarrel with me . . . what is it that you want? Pit is gone, but I'm a lot stronger than you think. You'll regret messing with me."

XxX

 **A/N: Okay, so not the chapter that you might have been expecting, but . . .**

 **That First Town. The town name with no real importance in KIU except for being the first one of Pit's many missions down on earth. How disappointing.**

 **I don't know, I feel sort of iffy about Dark Pit's interrogation sequence with Jana. Would have reverted to more dangerous methods if Jana hadn't told him more about the One Who Will Turn the Earth? And should Jana have cracked that easily? I've never written about an interrogation that didn't end in someone getting knocked out.**

 **When will Pit's prophecy finally be revealed to him? After Palutena and the rest find him, of course. But inexplicable** _ **things**_ **are happening! Pit's in mortal danger, and Palutena is . . . sick?**

 **Can you believe this was almost the third chapter of this fanfiction? How crazy would THAT have been?**

 **It's nice to see that even while Palutena's crazy, she still acts like an overprotective mother. But-oh, my gosh. I've hurt Pit again. Before you know it, these two boys are going to end up dead. Oh no. I would cry. Especially since I'm the one who made it happen!**

 **Please review!**


	13. And Then There Was One

_**"You've got to be joking. All you gods and your stupid wars are the ones throwing everything off balance!"- Dark Pit, in City of Lost Souls**_

 **A/N: EXTREME BACKSTORY ALERT!**

 **XxX**

 _Really_ , he thought again. _What was the problem?_

Was it Arlon's calming, yet eerie, presence? Was it his politeness, his mysterious quips? Was it the fact that he liked to go and 'gird his loins'? _Whatever that means_ , Dark Pit thought, shuddering. Or was it Arlon's ability to completely immerse himself in his work and not speak to anyone for hours, perhaps days, at a time? Was it a matter of his British-ness?

"Master Dark Pit, would you please hand me my magnifying glass?"

Dark Pit jumped in his seat visibly, much to the jaded surprised of Arlon. Scrambling to the equipment table, he fumbled for the magnifying glass, handing it over to the Moon God once he found it.

Arlon gave him a curious look. "Thank you."

"'Welcome," Dark Pit said shortly, and continued to brood in the chair opposite from Arlon's workspace.

The equipment was all laid out and work spread to be done. Arlon put the magnifying glass up to his face and peered through it, observing what looked like a plate full of squishy, grey jell-o; only it looked almost . . . alive. Presently he put down the glass, and picked up several other instruments and proceeded to poke and prod the moving jell-o. Dark Pit didn't know what in the world he was doing.

It had been quite a few hours since Viridi had seen Dark Pit off at the Lunar Sanctum. In his mind, he couldn't really see it as much of a Sanctum at all; not with his pressumptions of Arlon not yet expelled from his conscious.

Without looking up from his work, Arlon commented, "I have the feeling you are rather unsettled by my presence, Master Dark Pit."

Dark Pit kept his eyes directed down. "W-What makes you say that?"

Still looking down at his own work, Arlon smiled enigmatically. "Between you and Young Master Pit, he is the most excitable. Yet when you are around me, your nerves seem to be constantly shot."

"Sorry," Dark Pit muttered. "There's just . . . something about this place. And you . . . you never talk, or come visit Viridi, ever. Phosphora—well, she visits all the time, and talks her head off in the process. But you're always so silent, so distant . . . I guess it unnerves me."

Arlon nodded but said nothing more. Minutes passed in silence, with mostly brooding from the angel and more prodding from the god. After a while, though, the god asked out of nowhere, "Then why, if you are so 'creeped out' by my presence, did you come here in the first place?"

Dark Pit opened his mouth, then closed it. He blinked. "I'm not sure."

Arlon smiled. "Could it be, perhaps, because Mistress Viridi told you to?"

Dark Pit scoffed. "I don't have gods tell me what to do."

"Is that so?" Dark Pit waited for him to continue, and Arlon replied, obviously amused, "You did just hand me that magnifying glass. Unless, giving me that magnifying glass benefitted you in some way."

"I'm here to help you work on the necklaces," Dark Pit said in a surly voice, "so that Pit and I can hurry up and defeat Pyrrhon and his dragon already. That's why I gave you the magnifying glass," he concluded, looking at him measuredly. "So that the forest wouldn't have to face anymore of the destruction the two are causing lately."

"The forest, that Mistress Viridi is interested in."

"What-!?"

"You gave me the impression that you disagreed with everything Mistress Viridi believes in," Arlon elaborated calmly. "The mass destruction of the human race, the creation of the Reset Bombs. It seemed as if you disagreed with the existence of gods in general. And yet you seem to be working side by side with Mistress Viridi in order to aid her in the very things you seemed to disagree with. In the beginning, Phosphora informed me that you would have liked to serve under Miss Palutena over serving Mistress Viridi. Not only on account of loyalty, but on account of what each mission would be geared towards. 'Saving the humans,' she recounted you saying, 'or saving the plants. I might as well do something that has an ounce of meaning to the phrase'. Nevertheless, you were forced to work here, on account of the god's inability to have provide The Power of Flight to two angels at the same time. And I have seen you in these past months, working for Mistress Viridi and carrying out her missions, doing the good work of the earth- or in your words, 'saving the plants'. I also saw you starting to appreciate the value of the earth, and the beauty of nature. I began to see you take pleasure in the work you did. Furthermore, you said that you were helping me make the Flage necklaces, in order to save the forest. Now that makes it look like, after all of the resistance you showed in coming here, that Mistress Viridi's motives are finally starting to rub off on you."

Dark Pit mulled his words over in his mind. How that connected to anything at all was beyond him. "Well, of course I started to agree with her," he began slowly. "The value of life is important in any circumstance, not just on the subject the protection of humans. And so . . . as I began to work for Viridi, I did see the value of tending the earth, or in purifying a polluted river. It produced life, and it made me feel . . . I don't know, good."

Arlon, seeing the angel come upon some deep self-discovery, left him to his thoughts. He worked in silence, giving him a few minutes before proposing his next question. Finally, he said, "And so, in a loose translation, you are working for me because Mistress Viridi told you to."

Dark Pit stood up at that. "What are you trying to say?"

Arlon just smiled, never giving a word. At last Dark Pit settled down, his eyes on the Moon God all the while. Dark Pit hated the fact that everybody insisted on talking about the deep and serious with him. First Pit, then Arlon. Who was it going to be next? Phosphora? That chick bugged the hell out of him. His arms crossed over his chest, he grumbled, "You know, for being 'Arlon the Serene', you're pretty confrontational."

Arlon said nothing, and Dark Pit looked to see that he had gone back to his work. Dark Pit cast around the space, a smallish room with a curved ceiling that smoothed its way down to the ground; its dome-ish shape reminding Dark Pit how far from the earth they actually were, thousands of feet, perhaps, than from what it seemed to be. His whole mindset about the Lunar Sanctum had changed; even his feelings towards, Dark Pit thought, Arlon himself. He was bored most of the time, occasionally bearing down on earth to retrieve a couple of herbs and the like for Arlon, but he didn't mind. It was a nice reprieve from all of the craziness he was used to at the hands of Viridi, and her nonstop drills and abrasive voice screaming in his head. He gave a slight smile. Turns out, the Goddess of Nature was actually right in this one.

 _"Dark Pit!"_

The angel fell out of his chair. Arlon most definitely smirked at him.

He clambered back up, pushing his laurels back on his head. "What do you want?" spat Dark Pit to the Nature Goddess.

" _That's no way you speak to your goddess!"_ Viridi's voice was abrasive, but there was something in the way her voice trembled that told Dark Pit that something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?" Dark Pit said. "Has Pyrrhon gotten over the moat? Is-?"

" _No, it's something different."_ Dark Pit heard her take a deep breath right before saying, " _It's Pit. He's been kidnapped."_

XxX

How an angel was able to get kidnapped was beyond Dark Pit.

How an angel was able to get kidnapped right from under Palutena's nose was even further beyond him.

All he knew was, that person probably had some skills.

He voiced as much when he and Viridi had made it to Skyworld. Viridi shot him a glare.

Palutena continued to answer his question though. "Someone very powerful," Palutena said glumly. "Someone whom I probably already know."

"Then who is it?" Viridi fired.

"Cupid definitely kidnapped him," said Palutena.

Dark Pt groaned. "That little pervert . . ."

"His powers overtook mine," said Palutena anxiously. "When I tried to beam Pit back to Skyworld, Cupid's Light shone down on him, and before I knew it, the connection was . . . lost." Distantly she said, "I had no clue that Cupid had gotten so powerful."

"Well, that's just PEACHY," said Viridi, hands on her hips. "We've got a perverted angel who, from what Dark Pit's told me, wants more angels to join him up at Charmed Islands so they can 'have a little fun'. Great."

"Pit's dead," said Dark Pit unsympathetically.

"You guys!" said Palutena angrily. "Try to focus here!"

"We are focusing," said Viridi.

"Being realistic helps us try to gauge the best way to approach the situation," said Dark Pit. "Now, it's not nighttime, so maybe Pit-Stain should be fine . . ."

"But you have to remember, this is _Cupid_ we're talking about," pointed out Viridi. "Anything could happen."

"I'm sure Pit isn't in any danger like . . . that," said Palutena, looking a little green herself.

Viridi stepped forward, "Hey, Palutena, I'm sure Pit's fine-"

"We were just kidding," said Dark Pit.

"I mean, I'm a lot more relieved by the fact that Pit's been taken by Cupid, actually, and not by Pandora or something like that," said Viridi. "I know Pit will be able to take down Cupid if the little bastard comes on too strong-"

"It's not just that," Palutena said, taking a deep long sigh. Her eyes to the ground, she said, "When I contacted you, I only gave you about half the story. Pit got kidnapped _after_ he got struck by lightning-"

"He was WHAT?" Viridi and Dark Pit said simultaneously.

"Which is why I think Zeus and Cupid are working together," said Palutena, grimacing, "and that Cupid is interested in Pit for more than . . .personal reasons."

Dark Pit blanched, and Viridi didn't look too hot either. Her voice trembled when she said, "Did he look-?"

"I don't know," said Palutena with forlorn. "He's-he's expected to be pretty injured, if he's not already dead."

"He wouldn't be dead," said Dark Pit at once. "I would've felt it. He and I are connected, remember?"

"Right," said Palutena, her blue eyes giving way to immense relief. "You're right." She let out a shakey breath. "He has to be alive, then."

"Well, thanks for STARTING with that!" yelled Viridi.

"I'm sorry," said Palutena. "Everything's just been-overwhelming-"

"It's okay," said Dark Pit, casting her a steady look. "We'll find him. Just tell us what we need to do."

Palutena nodded, swallowing. "Okay. so here's what I have. Cupid and Zeus are most likely working together. But I can't figure out a reason why . . . the kidnapping just seemed to go hand in hand with each other. I can't imagine a coincidence so great."

"But why would Cupid go through such lengths to strike Pit down with lightning?" wondered Dark Pit. "If he wanted to kidnap Pit, he would've just waited until he was down with one of his missions to do it, right?"

"You're right, you're right," said Palutena, rubbing her arms anxiously, up and down, up and down.

"This seems to me that we've got a bigger problem at hand," said Viridi. "Zeus and Cupid seem to be in on something, or at least one of them do. Zeus doesn't seem like the type of person to want to cause any harm to any of your charges."

"It makes no sense. Zeus' beard!" Palutena exclaimed suddenly. "I _knew_ I wouldn't be able to trust him!"

"Who?" said Dark Pit. "Cupid, or Zeus?"

"Cupid," said Palutena. "He must have been following Pit this whole time, waiting for the right moment to strike . . ." Palutena looked up suddenly. "We need to figure out a secret way to infiltrate Cupid's Palace and steal back Pit before Zeus or Cupid knows that he's gone."

Dark Pit was surprised. The fact that Palutena could be so driven and . . . sane while her captain was in danger served as a shocking contrast to what he had experienced just that morning. His thoughts on her present condition were interrupted by Palutena's sudden glance in his general direction. "You'll need to go through the back entrance this time around, not the front, where we had gone a few days ago. Okay? I don't know what dangers you might encounter there exactly, but from what I know, there's going to be a maze, probably with some riddles to solve, and some booby traps laid in there somewhere to trip you up as well. Cupid likes his mind games."

"Great," said Dark Pit sardonically.

"And what are you going to do?" asked Viridi.

"I'm going to confront Zeus," said Palutena, her voice steely.

"Will you be able to handle him yourself?" asked Viridi.

"I can handle them," Palutena said only. She tightened her grip on her scepter, and Dark Pit didn't think that anything could go between her and her rage after seeing Pit get struck by lightning.

 _Struck by lightning._ Dark Pit still couldn't get over it.

"I'll see why Zeus is acting the way he is, and you too can go and see if you can sneak Pit out of there without anyone knowing," said Palutena. "You might want to be prepared with some weapons, though. Cupid likes to say that he's a pacifist, but if we enter in and take Pit back without his permission, there's no telling what he'd do."

Dark Pit gave a sure nod. "Sure," said Viridi, her dark eyes set and level on her. "We'll help." They weren't usually ones to take orders so readily, but on the subject of Pit, they agreed almost instantly. "We'll let you know if we're successful."

"Thank you," said Palutena sincerely, and Dark Pit could almost forget about what had happened that morning by way of her tone. Almost.

"Don't mention it. We care about Pit," said Viridi. "and wouldn't want it any other way."

XxX

As soon as Dark Pit and Viridi left, she armed herself for attack.

At the weapons altar, there was a variety of weapons at her disposal. Right now, though, she only wanted one. She drew her staff, her beloved scepter, fingering it the way she had when she had first received it so many years ago. Its gold finishings glimmered with light, and the orb of turquoise flowed with powerful energy. Its luminescent, water-like nature took her back to another time, back to a time before Pit and before she had quite so many responsibilities . . .

But that time was over now, and right now Pit was in trouble. Next she put on her gold arm guards and her shoulder flanks, lastly taking up her shield. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for battle. It had been a long time since she had been on the offensive. She couldn't saw she fully liked it, but then again, the God of the Sky had aggravated her to do it. Despite their history together, Zeus had damaged Pit, and it was time to find out why he would do such an irrational thing after all this time.

Palutena opened her eyes. She was ready.

XxX

Her journey to Zeus' Temple had been speedy and expeditious. Her entrance, however, had not.

The stone ground trembled violently at her feet, causing her to stumble slightly. The whole place shook like a miniature earthquake was in the sky, and thunder and lightning ravaged through the heavens in quick succession. Consequently, it was dark, but it was not so quiet. The demanding slap of the thunder around her and the sounding slap of the rain on stone hard ground was enough to command anyone's attention.

 _"Lady Palutena, here to ensure my death."_

Palutena steadied herself with her scepter. That was the first time she had ever heard him since all those years ago. His voice sounded fainter, more weary, yet surprisingly still as deep and as earth shaking as she first remembered it.

Meet the God of the Sky.

"Lord Zeus!" Palutena said loudly over the din, ducking her head in respect. "Many years ago you had commanded my respect, training me in the Power of Light and declaring me Protector of the humans. Now, you ruthlessly disregard my position, breaking the alliance I thought we both held and honored with one another. You strike down my angel, as if trying to start a war. Explain yourself!"

 _"You wish to comment on an alliance made centuries ago,"_ Zeus said, a smile in his tone. _"My feelings have changed."_

"But your actions make no sense. I had gathered that I had your full support of taking custody of my angel, Pit, but now you come in and strike him from the skies—"

 _"My actions should mean nothing to you,"_ Zeus interrupted. _"I did not mean to kill him."_

Palutena perked up. "Are you saying that he's there, at your temple?"

 _"I am saying to come see for yourself."_ His voice was sly and strange. " _The forces of good and evil cannot atone me for my actions, but perhaps other forces can."_

Palutena, confused by Zeus' message, took that and began walking. The marble temple's entrance lit up once with a blinding flash of lightning, before casting it in the shadow once again in the angry clouds of the sky.

She met no resistance upon going in the temple. Surprisingly, she didn't expect any. It was not in Zeus' nature to come on so enigmatic. It made Palutena wonder if Zeus was really in trouble, if he was just confused.

She shook her head, as if physically clearing her thoughts. No, she had to focus on her mission. Zeus probably had Pit, and she need to be prepared to fight back . . . even if it meant fighting her mentor.

Corridors and corridors with dimly-lit torches guided her near. She still knew her way, but the flickering torchlight helped immensely. There could have been dozens of rooms down hallway that Zeus could've been behind, but the torchlight pointed her surely, right to the Main Hall.

Right before entering, something in her mind screamed, _IT'S A TRAP!_

But that's not what her eyes were telling her. On the floor in the far reaches of the room, lay Lord Zeus.

"Zeus!" Palutena said, crossing the room hurriedly. Crouching down next to the god, she could see from the hard lines and the watered down look in his eyes that he was about to die. She leaned to hold his face, worry etched deep into her face. "What happened to you?"

"Tena," Zeus said fondly, and the light was dim behind watery blue eyes. "I finally get your attention."

"Of course you did, you old man! You struck Pit with lightning!"

"Ah," Zeus breathed, and he chuckled softly. His hands at his sides were frail and thin, quite unlike the strong, firm ones Palutena was used to. "I am sorry about that. I am afraid . . . I was not in my right mind."

"What do you mean by that? How are you like this?" It was obvious to her that he was dying. But how could a god die from something not of natural causes?

Lord Zeus reached for her face, smiling a bit as he did so. "I am truly sorry about your angel, Tena. I just hope he is well. I was not in my right mind . . . but now I am. My illness has departed from me for the present time, leaving nothing but—"

"Don't." Palutena didn't want to believe it. Being a god for so long had almost made her distant to the topic of death. But now, faced with the knowledge of the _end,_ and confronted with the memory of eternal sleep of someone so dear to her, triggered all of the past encounters with it from her long buried past. She thought of a death that had been so dear to her so long ago, back when she had been human. She wished she could remember who it had been, but the name was just beyond her reach. He remained close to her, all the same, though he was but a memory . . . she felt the pain of his passing even now, the old hurt of a dying father figure hitting her once again . . .

"Why couldn't you just ask me to come here? Why didn't let any of the other gods know that you were sick?"

"I could not open up a channel to contact you in my ill state," Zeus said weakly. "I am afraid that I have been a bit senile. Contracting a dual personality, you might say. Trying to get your attention to come here has proved extremely difficult, when one moment I am fully aware of my actions, and the next, hopelessly lost . . . I hope I did not cause your angel any serious harm."

"I'm sure you haven't," Palutena reassured, though she wasn't all as confident as she appreared. But her words gave off the right illusion, of comfort when there was nothing else left to comfort the old god. If only she had visited more often, she thought, her throat restricting. She wondered if, if she had done that, this moment wouldn't be quite so difficult to go through. She might have been able to prevent this all from happening in the first place, as well . . . "Don't leave, Zeus . . ."

And then suddenly, with tears rolling down her cheeks, she was reminded of the despair that she had felt when she had almost lost Pit, after the attack of the Chaos Kin. Such a memory so close to the present brought a new torture to the backs of her eyelids, and she blinked rapidly, but she couldn't stop the wet warmness from strolling down her cheeks. She bit down her lip, filled with new vigor from the surge of retribution, the same one that had overcome her when she had known about how the Chaos Kin had possessed her and had attacked Dark Pit. "Tell me who did this to you!"

"The Mark . . ." Zeus said faintly.

"The what?" Palutena asked, going out of her mind. If he didn't tell her before - before—she might never be able to seek out revenge.

" _The Mark . . . of Chaos_ ," Zeus rasped, closing his eyes. " _'No light will be able to drive off the Chaos, but only the Spirits of Peace will be able to banish it for good_ —'"

"Zeus-?" Said Palutena urgently, some of the words of the Prophecy suspiciously familiar to her. _The Spirits of Peace,_ she thought in shock, surprised that it had made its way back into her life so quickly. She was about to ask Zeus again what he meant, beg him to keep talking, but before she could she interrupted herself with a gasp. During Zeus' incoherent ramblings, she could finally see what he's been trying to tell her all along. A Mark—black-violet and almost alive in nature, pulsed at the back of the dying god's neck. Zeus' body was limp, almost lifeless, but Palutena was able to shift his weight towards her so that she could get a better look at it. The Mark shouldn't have been so familiar to her—having never seen it in person—but somehow the image had always been there, ever present in the back of her mind ever since her encounter with the creature, a watermark in the gaps of her memory.

He had called it the Mark of Chaos . . .

"The Chaos Kin." As far as she knew, the Chaos Kin was locked up tight within the holds of the Lunar Sanctum after she and Pit had inadvertently let it free the last time they had destroyed Arlon. But, according to Zeus' condition, being attacked had its after effects, and only certain forces were able to drive off the Chaos Mark absolutely.

There was something . . . _oddly_ familiar about the last part of Zeus' sentence. Her mind flashed back to a prophecy from long ago that she had heard from the lips of another dying god: _'The Spirits will find him, and he will confront the One Who Will Turn the Earth. He will be called the Winged One, and through him all of Skyworld and Overworld will become fully restored . . .'_

What if _these_ Spirits of Peace which Zeus talked about now were _the_ Spirits that will find the Winged One?

"When did you get possessed?" Palutena asked urgently. She felt a rising bubble of fear up in her own stomach, a fear that latched on and wouldn't let go, needing to know how much time she had before ended up like a her old friend before her. But as she turned back to the God of the Sky, he was silent, silent to the bone. When Palutena checked his neck once more, the pulse was nonexistent, and it took a moment for her to realize that her great mentor and friend had finally passed.

She held back a sob, failing. She trembled, setting the god down on the floor, glad that he had died with his eyes closed, peaceful now and not in ailing pain. But with that emotion she was left with a gaping hole of despair, of helplessness. She wiped the tears from her eyes, trying hard not to look at the Mark again which was at the back of his neck, and to focus at the task at hand. She would need to open a connection to Viridi, prepare a proper funeral. Would they have it here, or at her own Temple? She put a hand to her head. It was hard to concentrate on anything properly. The confusion after a god's death—after the death of her immortal mentor—was worrying her too much. Was there more besides her that had been touched by the Chaos Kin? How much time did she really have? And of course, there was that ever looming distraction of the Mark before her . . .

Her eyes flickered to the back of Zeus' neck once more. How _badly_ did she want to reach out and touch it—to try and comprehend its mysteries—to find out why it was there. If only she could reach out and _touch_ it, she might be able to find out when Zeus contracted it.

 _Wait—NO,_ she thought wildly, retracting her hand. What was she doing? This was obviously a trap—had even told herself that before she had entered the Temple's Main Hall. _But . . ._ Her eyes strayed back to the Mark once more, and the swirling expanse played tricks on her mind. She was mesmerized, enchanted by its dark wonder . . . She was led by some force outside of her conscious will to touch the Mark—and before she knew it, her hand extended towards his neck; she knew she shouldn't be doing it—but by the time she thought of that, it was already too late—

Palutena gasped.

She wasn't in Zeus' grand Temple anymore. She wasn't even in Skyworld. The landscape that surrounded her was that of the Underworld; all dark stone, purple skies, thunder and lightning. Palutena knew the place well; they were at Medusa's misconstruction of a temple, if you could still call it that. Braziers were lit in a detail that made the vision almost real. _What is this_? Palutena asked herself. It seemed to borrow from both her memory and from something else. But if it was from her memory, which memory was it? And who was manipulating her into seeing all of this?

She walked up the steps in front of her, feeling a displaced sense of cold. A desolate, foreboding wind swept through the place, and Palutena suddenly knew that this place in her memories was not quite right. Something—no, someONE—had to have lit the fires that were flickering in the braziers now . . .

Her fingers began to lose their feeling, and she brought her hands to hover close to the fire. _Is this when Medusa had been defeated during the First War_? She wondered. _Or the Second War?_ She had only come there just those two times since Medusa had first constructed her temple. There was no other reason of going to visit after a war was over—other than . . .

Palutena flinched back from the flame at the sound of something at the top of the stairs. She knew then that she was not alone. Whether it was a shift of clothing or the dragging of feet, a shiver went down her spine that had nothing to do with the fact that her hands were now barred to the cold.

A tickle of apprehension in her stomach, the goddess turned her head.

Two figures peered down at her. One stood, while the other lay at his feet; both looked at Palutena with identical looks of confusion. Palutena stumbled back, slipping on the stony stairs. Her hands flung back to break her fall, and they came back scraped and white. Still, she looked at the two in front of her. "Castor?" she gasped, her throat tight with emotion. "Pollux?"

They were young. About nine years old, their faces were identical in every shape or form; save for one common trait. While they both had different colored eyes, one a stormy gray and the other a milky white, they were switched, so that one boy's left eye wouldn't match the other boy's left. Each had an red- blond color tint to their hair, their lips thin and their composures hard. The tunics they wore were in tatters, and their bare feet were black and blue and matted with dirt.

"Tena?" the one who was standing asked.

"Where's Aunt Medusa?" asked the one on the floor.

Palutena shook her head in denial. "I remember this," she said to no one. "I already told them what happened. Please . . . don't make me do it again."

"What?" said the boy standing.

"What?" said the boy sitting down.

Both of their heads cocked to the side, each alike in innocence.

"I—I already told you what happened," said Palutena to them, wavering. "Your Aunt Medusa . . . she's not with us anymore."

The twins' eyes grew bright with understanding. Hurt and betrayal rose in their eyes then, as incriminating as before. "What?" said the one on the floor, coming up to stand. "Auntie is . . . dead?"

"Castor, I'm so sorry." Palutena grew all misty eyed; she wanted to be in a place far away from here. Instead, she stood up, and paced the remaining stairs to them. "Baby, I'm so sorry, it couldn't be helped. She was in some bad business, you know, and it was the only way to stop her. But you don't have to be like her, Pollux—" She had put a hand on the right one's cheek. "—nor you, Castor. And I didn't—"

"You killed her?" Castor spoke, his voice high pitched in anger and disbelief. "Tena, are you saying you killed her?"

"Yes," Palutena said, her voice thick, "but you don't have to—"

"She was ours—" began Pollux, his head held low.

"She was our matron goddess," Castor finished for him. His expression was hard and firm, and his eyes flashed. "She took _care_ of us. And you too!"

"Castor, I didn't want to do it," said Palutena, her hands held out in front of her. "I regret it had to be this way. But I don't want you to—"

"Be like her?" muttered Castor in disillusionment. He rose his eyes up to her. "No. How could you?"

Palutena was dumbstruck.

Pollux, however, was not. He took a furious step forward, his eyes burning bright with hate. "You," he said. "How can you not see all that you've done?"

Palutena blinked. "I don't know—"

"Of course you don't," said Pollux, waving a dismissive hand in front of her face. "You gods never were very observant. You think my brother and I ended up okay after you defeated our matron goddess? We were alone in the world, without our power source, without a _home,_ and you just—"

"Pollux, I know what I've done to hurt you two," Palutena said, aware that she was stepping out of her memory and into some projection that they had created for her to be in instead. She looked at Castor, whom she knew to be the more reasonable of the two. "Boys—I'll take you back as you are. You were banned from ever entering Skyworld again—I will lift that ban from you. I'll restore your powers—"

"It's too late for that," said Pollux, eyes to the ground.

"It doesn't have to be," said Palutena, trying to make amends. She reached out for Castor's shoulder. He still looked like a young boy. _I remember his face so_ well, she thought, _like it was yesterday._

But when Palutena's hand fell into contact with his body, her hand went straight through, as if the boy was a ghost, a projection of some sort.

Palutena stumbled back, careful not to trip and fall over the stairs. " _What—"_

Castor shimmered out of existence.

"That's right, Tena," said Pollux derisively. "Castor is dead."

Palutena looked at the other twin blankly. Both of Pollux's eyes were blunt with an anger that Palutena had never before seen. It was anger that was long burning and patient, patient and waiting for his time of revenge. He had concocted this scene using his powers, thought Palutena; goading her into believing that there was some hope in saving Medusa's charges after her mistake so long ago. She blinked then, comprehension dawning on her features. This wasn't some friendly chat, she realized, looking into both of Pollux's mismatched eyes- some peaceful confrontation that Pollux could simply be _talked_ out of. No—this was vengeance.

"You killed her," Pollux said, stepping forward. "You killed _him."_ And with each step that he took towards Palutena, his face morphed and changed with a nightmarish intensity. Palutena was frozen in fear, forgetting that she had a weapon in her hand, watching as Pollux's face grew longer, more angled, more shapely. She took a hesitant step backwards. Pollux followed right afterwards, grabbing her by the shoulders hard, lurching her forward with all his strength.

"Pollux," Palutena said, her voice a quavery whisper. "Please."

"I don't know what makes you think you could ever tell us what to do," he growled. "Must be that ego that all gods are so fond of toting around with them at all times. You could never seem to grow out of that."

Pollux was different. His face had aged, his face quivering with a handle on his anger that superceded that of a nine year old.

"Not all gods are like me," said Palutena, scrambling for words to say. "You don't have to commit yourself to their destruction—"

Pollux laughed bitterly. "Why would I want to be after all the gods? This is personal. All I want to do is hurt _you."_

Palutena tried to wrench away from him, but his strong grip held her in place. Her legs stumbled backwards, and she felt herself falling on the steps that she just came up from, bringing Pollux down with her.

Step by step, the two crashed into each other. Palutena scrabbled for purchase behind her, but Pollux wasn't having any of it. He grabbed one hand. Unable to grab a hold of the other, however, he was caught off guard when Palutena made move for his face. Pollux cried out in pain when he felt the force of her fingers digging into his flesh. He reared back for a moment, and Palutena shifted away, eyes darting around for the scepter that she had heard clatter to the ground, crawling away from what she had believed to be a fate worse than death.

Her efforts were stopped when his grip clamped around her ankle. Pollux yanked her closer to him, and Palutena shrieked. Her other leg lashed out, and she heard a grunt come from behind when her leg came into contact with the other's body. His grip did not slacken however-and she found herself being dragged backwards still-but by that time Palutena was close enough to her scepter, and she grabbed for it. Now, if she could turn herself over-

She felt the hand on her ankle slacken and her long hair was yanked back right afterwards. She stumbled to her knees, her head searing in so much pain that she almost forgot that she had her scepter in hand. Not for long, however. The world as bright as a white sheet in front of her, and she felt herself being launched forward into the ground-again and again, her world a whirlwind of stone and pain for the next few seconds. After a few times he stopped, however, and relinquished his grip from the roots of her hair. Her eyes bled with tears as he stepped in front of her, weary of inflicting pain-or something to that extent, thought Palutena, because she had never met a more volatile being in her entire life.

She swung hard with the scepter that still lay in her grasp, but it was all for nothing. He took the blow without a sound, and dodged the next one after that. At her next swing he deftly kicked the scepter out of her grasp and kicked her smartly in the face. Palutena spiraled from the pain, holding her face and blinking at the ground in shock.

"Had enough?" Pollux said languidly.

Palutena caught her attacker's full gaze at last. He looked at least nineteen now, his body long and lean.

"Let me explain," said Pollux, bending down to her kneeling form. His sneering face looked at her in barely suppressed disgust. "I fabricated these memories and projections for you to find when you finally found Zeus at his final stages of the illness. So, you'll wake up from this unharmed-though the pain you're feeling now is quite real. I wasn't planning on hurting you, but I just _had_ to find out how well my magic could work on you. You're experiencing a whole world of hurt right now, aren't you?"

"Go to hell," she grunted, the blood from her supposedly broken nose splattering the pavement.

He smiled. "Already have, Tena! For _years_ I traversed the Underworld, battling off Underworld monsters with my brother until we had absolutely nothing left-"

"Castor," said Palutena with a sudden realization. "How long ago did he-"

"Don't—say his name," Pollux gritted out, a finger stuck out in her direction. "Not even by accident."

"I-I'm sorry," said Palutena. She peered deep into his unusually colored eyes. It always seemed like their eyes were the traits that defined them the most—half blinded by the truth; their lives, a half-construed lie. She saw that part of him wanted to hurt her-that had _already_ hurt her—but also saw that part of him wanted to crawl into a corner and mourn, mourn for all that he'd lost. He was both parts fury and despair, and it terrified her how unpredictable he was right then.

"The monsters didn't _stop,_ Tena! Much to our surprise. So many _monsters_ down there-you really wouldn't believe. . . they didn't stop attacking us though we had once served Medusa, Queen of the Underworld. We were too young, and didn't hold enough power then, we guessed, Even _before_ you stripped us of our magic. I suppose our reputation wasn't _strong_ enough then.

"Sort of fortuitous how that the same creature that had claimed Zeus had already gotten to you, as well," said Pollux snidely. "Now, all I have to do is wait for the illness to claim you and drive you slowly insane while everyone you know and love can watch you wither away and die." His uneven eyes darted to hers. "It's a little like Christmas."

The edges around the projected memory began to grow dim. At the same time, Palutena felt herself gradually slipping from consciousness as well. Palutena took her chance. "Pollux, you don't have to be alone. Not anymore," said Palutena tenderly, seeing the boy that Medusa had fostered from so long ago once again. "Anything you want, I can give you-if you want your powers back, you can have them-"

"You can't give me anything I don't already have!" yelled Pollux, advancing towards her. Palutena flinched but felt her face being held in his stern grip as his next words became increasingly clear. "You want to give me my powers back? I've already got new ones. You want to give me revenge against my enemies? Well, Tena, you've got it right there on the back of your pretty little neck."

"Pollux, I'm sorry," said Palutena despairingly. "For Medusa, for your brother-"

"Save your breath," spat Pollux. "It's not going to get you anywhere." Pollux released his hold on her chin and pushed her to the side. Palutena fell on her elbows.

"You know what?" said Pollux thoughfully after some time. "There's actually _one_ thing you can get me, Tena. Something that may help me to forgive you."

"What do you want?" said Palutena.

"I want my brother back, bitch," he said. "Can you get that for me?"

Palutena hesitated. "There's always the possibility of him regenerating again-it may take years, but it would happen nonetheless, even without outside intrusion."

"Sorry, you're wrong again, Tena. Because I've already tried that." One hand behind his back, he walked towards her with one hand pointed up in the air like a master instructing his pupil. "First of all, my brother and I were never gods. The natural regereation process only works on those who have obtained immortality. Secondly, after killing Thanatos for the second time, you've eliminated any possibility of death regeneration. Even if I found his soul at the City of Lost Souls, there would be no God of Death to be able to bring him back to life. You see the issue?"

"What about the Rewind Spring?" said Palutena.

"That's assuming that I have my brother's body in tow," said Pollux, "which I don't. He's been eaten, Tena-torn to shreds."

Palutena was speechless. She didn't know what else to offer. She had been brought low in a matter of minutes by a simple weaving of magic and the guilt of a past fault. Who was she to try and make it right? If it was revenge that Pollux wanted, then he could have it. She hardly deserved to live -

She said slowly, "You can come into the Skyworld," said Tena. "I can give you a home there unlike any that you've ever experienced. It wouldn't make up for your loss, but it's a start—"

"No," Pollux said, his voice sharp once again. "Living with you—in all of your sanctimonious glory—it would be torture." His mouth a thin line, Palutena almost felt him with their similar magic signatures wiping away the last dregs of the projection. "The Mark—it will claim you, just as it claimed him." His voice was heavy with regret and worn out anger. "You will mourn the loss of your mentor, just as we had to mourn the loss of ours. And your angel—he will suffer as well, as he watches you crumble and fade away from your eternal state, and feel the sting of death when the Mark finally consumes your soul—"

"Pollux—please—"

The twin shook his head, turning jerkily away from the Goddess of Light. "The Mark, however, will only be the first of your punishments," he said. "Before you die, I will personally make sure that all your secrets will spill out into the open, and make sure that your angel loses faith in the gods like we have, and is disillusioned as your little _servant."_

Pollux's last words were as sharp as a slap to the face, though, at the same time, Palutena felt herself falling further away from the haze of his words. At last she let herself tumble gently into a blanket of black, letting the darkness invade her mind, letting it consume her and send her away from harshness of reality.

XxX

 **A/N: ANOTHER LONG CHAPTER! But this was rather enjoyable to write. Not a dull point in here, at all.**

 **Palutena is such an** _ **amazingly**_ **difficult name to type in the computer. I always want to spell the name** _ **platypus**_ **instead.**

 **If anything is confusing . . . please let me know. I sometimes feel like I have a lot going on at once. I know that my next chapters are going to be hard to write, with tying in the knots I've left hanging XD I'm happy to answer any questions about plot, or the Kid Icarus timeline, which I've already got figured, for the most part. Also, for additional help with characters, there's a KIU Character Bio floating about out there for this very story! OCs and regular characters alike are featured there!**

 **Your reviews are lovely. They give me wondrous insight within the likes I've never encountered with any fanfiction I've written.**

 **Thank you so much to my awesome readers!**


	14. Kidnappers and Seductresses

" _ **You filthy little nothing!" –**_ **Viridi to Dark Pit, in the chapter City of Lost Souls**

 **A/N: Thanks so much to those who've reviewed, have reviewed in the past, and are reading now! You guys encourage me to write the very best fanfiction I can for Pit and Dark Pit's sake!**

 **XxX**

Palutena woke up to an itch at the back of her mind. She pried her eyes open, dreading what she'd wake up to. The goddess looked about her, her fears confirmed. She was alone in Zeus' temple, the old mentor in her arms.

She put a hand to the space below her nose, her fingers coming away clean. Though her face might have not shown any signs of damage, the pain still lingered. Her confrontation with Pollux still left her without words, and guilt consumed her more than ever before. She felt as though whatever punishment the Fates had in store for her was only just. She had left those boys on their own, and she shouldn't shirk from the consequences.

Even if that meant wasting away at the hands of some unknown disease . . .

She stole a glance at Zeus' decrepit body, at the Mark that lay on his own neck. When would the first signs reveal itself? she wondered. Unless . . . they already had? The headaches, the confusion. the apparent memory loss? Next, she supposed she would slowly fall into madness like Zeus had. How long would it take for her brain to decay so completely as his had? She shivered, afraid of what was to come. There were so many _questions,_ and not enough answers to sate her palette.

Her hand went to the back of her own neck. Would it be possible for her to not even contract the Mark as Zeus had at this point? But that hope was beyond all reason, and Palutena knew it full well. If anything, the Mark had been on her the longest-three years, if what everyone had told her was correct. And if the symptoms meant anything . . . what else could these signs possibly mean?

And Pit. Her Pit. She couldn't bear the thought of him being told all of this. His face would crease with worry, his eyes would cloud over with despair. And if they never found a cure, his spirit would inevitably break as well . . . Whether she deserved this or not, he didn't deserve what dealing with any of this would mean at all. It was then that Palutena tried opening a mind connection to Viridi . . . but for some reason, it wouldn't go through. It was like she had a bad signal or something . . . which was ridiculous. This type of thing would only happen if her powers were depleting . . . since a connection to the gods ran on their divine powers alone. Could she be . . .?

She looked down. The god of the sky lay dead, and she felt cold with dread. The last time a god had died from unnatural causes such as these was the first time the Kin had made its presence known to the world. The first god that it had consumed, Sonus, was the first heralding of a new type of enemy. Pandemonium followed wherever the Kin roamed, and this quality was what gave it its present name. Sonus, the God of Thunder had been a minor god, but his death still held all the jarring effect of a monarch in power. Matters down on earth were in disarray, and it was a while before the Kin had been captured and a permanent residence in the Lunar Sanctum had been secured. Even with the enemy behind diamond-plated walls, the Skyworld and the Overworld was never the same after the unleashing of such an unimaginable evil. It was one of the factors that had made the gods split and distrust each other in the first place. Now, with the death of a major god, Palutena couldn't help but feel more than a little frightened as she contemplated what the future held for them now . . .for it could only get worse from here.

 _So,_ she thought, a bit distant. _This is what the end of the world feels like._

 **XxX**

Charmed Islands was in the completely opposite direction from Palutena's Temple—away from all of the rain and storm. Even so, a mysterious mist draped itself upon the whole mainland, so that neither Dark Pit nor Viridi could see anything of the actual Temple. They were arriving from the back, and according to Palutena's directions, this should be it. Dark Pit was more than a little skeptical, until he heard the sound of running water close by, like a waterfall; odd, he thought, not for the first time, for there to be a waterfall stock in the middle of the sky.

" _But I'm sure that this is it,"_ Viridi told Dark Pit. " _This is definitely Charmed Islands, Cupid's base of operations."_

"You say that, but how in the world am I supposed to land?" Dark Pit questioned. "We can't even see the ground!"

 _"Pick and choose, I suppose_ ," Viridi provided, and with that, directed Dark Pit's wings to travel to the thick of the overhead mist.

 **XxX**

Dark Pit was met with the usual rough and tumble landing.

"Can you at least try next time?!" Dark Pit said, straightening from the ground. "I've got wings, you know, which are liable to break!"

 _"Oh, don't be such a sissy_." Viridi snapped. " _I'm still new at this."_

"You could've at least giving me a warning," Dark Pit grumbled, still dusting himself off from the grass of the ground, "before diving me headfirst into the thick, cloudy blanket of some god's home!"

 _"Shh! I think someone's coming!"_ Viridi hissed immediately. Her commands usually going unheeded by the angel, he began to open his mouth again, before his ears picked up some noise in the distance.

Dark Pit got out his Silver Bow, its weight balanced within his grip as he quickly notched an arrow. He looked around the clearing, searching for the source of the noise, ready to strike this time before Viridi even needed to tell him to. He examined his surroundings, picking a dense wall of foliage to hide behind, and waited in silence.

The stranger wasn't taking caution at being quiet at all. Humming loudly, Dark Pit finally caught a glimpse of the girl from beneath the branches of the underbrush. And almost couldn't believe his eyes.

The girl danced her way through the thick-hedged forest, her spring green tunic twirling with her every move ( **yeah, yeah; go ahead and moan and groan. I've invented another OC and Dark Pit is going to find her instantly beautiful. Well, stick with me, okay? There's a point to this, and the point isn't random romantic fluff** ). Her eyes were closed, but she was totally at ease with her movements; dancing along to the song that she alone hummed behind her two lips. A small heart pendant rested at her neck at the center of her collarbone—and she was blond, her long curls bouncing from the back of her head from her high ponytail, and waving in front of her face from her long bangs. He restrained himself to just be content with watching her dance among the leaves and the grass.

Even Viridi seemed to be stunned into silence, stuttering half-formed sentences that made Dark Pit think that she was equally stunned and jealous of her beauty at the same time.

He suddenly felt like a creeper, hiding behind some bushes and staring at this wonderful girl in the dark of the mist and the tall hedges. He dusted himself off—hopefully the grass stains on his dark chiton wouldn't be too noticeable—and began to present himself.

"Excuse me?"

Stunned, Dark Pit whipped around and was made speechless again. At his shoulder was another girl—this one short-haired, redheaded, and orange-eyed. She had the eyes of a cat, slanted and mischievous, and almond-shaped as to go with her uniquely pale skin. In her hair rested a small little heart hair clip, framed with gold—not unlike the necklace the other girl wore. She looked at him with a hint of curiosity, her small gold hoop earrings moving with the tilt of her head.

The angel girl smiled softly. "I'm sorry—if I startled you. I'm—well, I'm a little lost, and I was hoping that you could tell me where I am."

Dark Pit blinked. "I—um." He cleared his throat. "Apparently this is Cupid's place."

"Oh." She looked a little sad at that. "Do you know the way out?"

"I—not really," Dark Pit stuttered.

 _"Stop stuttering!"_ Viridi fumed at him. " _It's almost as if you've never talked to a girl before_!"

"Yeah, well; you and Palutena don't really count," Dark Pit mumbled.

"What was that?" the angel girl asked him.

Dark Pit reverted back to the angel girl, ignoring Viridi's ensuing comments. "I'm barely familiar with this place myself," Dark Pit informed. "I just flew here. . ."

"Who are you looking at?" The angel girl peeked out from behind Dark Pit's shoulders and glanced at the dancing girl. She turned away with an angry huff. "Oh. Her."

Dark Pit looked back to the red-head. "You know her?"

"Know her? That's Ella," the girl said sourly. "She thinks she's the prettiest."

"Uh-huh," Dark Pit said, staring at the girl in the clearing. She thought she looked familiar! She had been with Cupid-briefly-when he and Pit had first arrived at Charmed Islands just days before. It was spectacular that he hadn't noticed her quite like he was noticing her now. Her graceful movements would be forever implanted in his memory, even during the moments when he turned away . . .

"But she's not all that pretty. Not in person. She just thinks that because she's a good dancer."

"Uh-huh." Dark Pit was hardly paying attention.

The red-head refused to give up. She stepped a little closer to him. "But you don't really think that she's the prettiest," she asked him, "do you?"

Dark Pit blinked, completely caught off guard. There was suddenly something about this girl that made him block out all other things from his mind. His mission, the other girl in the clearing, even Viridi's loud voice that screamed for him to wake up—couldn't snap him out of this daydream. It was something about her voice-something that sang to him even when she was simply talking to him. Suddenly he could think of anything else but the girl with the unusal red hair. Before he knew it, he was forever entranced by her words, each sentence suddenly music to his ears.

"Well, that depends," Dark Pit said, smiling slightly and looking deep into her cat-orange eyes. "I don't even know your name."

"It's Nikki," the girl in front of him said, curling her arms around his neck.

"Then I'd say that you are the prettiest," Dark Pit murmured, right before she covered his lips with his.

Viridi's loud complaints sounded faint in his mind as Dark Pit wrapped his arms around the dark redhead. He thought he heard her say something about it being a trap, but at that moment he just didn't care.

 **XxX**

"This is the last straw!"

Never had Viridi been so annoyed.

"I helped him! I gave him the Power of Flight! I gave him room and board, and _this_ is how he repays me!"

Viridi had just opened a connection to Palutena. What she didn't realize in the midst of her rant, however, was that her connection with Palutena had never gotten through. But it's still fun to read about Viridi talking to herself.

"I mean, here we are, _moments_ after landing, and almost instantly Dark Pit is _engrossed_ looking at some with some random chick, dancing in some random meadow! He _completely_ forgets about our mission, even as I'm yelling directly at him, and even more so when some other chick comes around and thinks she can sweet-talk to him! Which she _does!_ Ugh! The nerve of some people! I mean, Dark Pit has said some pretty impartial things to me in the past, and he's always been more or less indifferent to what I do, but – I mean!—he's never completely ignored me like that! What an ungrateful little freeloader! Once he comes back to Hanging Gardens, he won't know what hit him! Ugh, the little parasite makes me sick! Pit may be annoying, but at least he does what you say!"

Viridi was pacing, so consumed in her frustration and outrage, that it took her more than a moment to realize that there had been no reply.

"Palutena?"

Viridi waited, quite out of her moment of rage for now, and began to get a little suspicious. She checked the connection again, twice more, waited, then sighed.

"Great. Such a beautiful rant and no one here to listen to it."

 **XxX**

Pit jolted up, feeling something was terribly wrong. He immediately regretted it, the pain in his back like nothing he had felt before. He collapsed back on his pillow, biting his tongue until it drew blood. But it didn't help. The pain was still there.

"Oh no; did I startle you?" A kind, feminine voice spoke close by. A cold, wet cloth came to rest on his forehead, and he sighed. He didn't realize how hot he was until that moment. "I shouldn't have left you alone— you've been in pain for so long . . ."

Fighting the urge to keep his eyes shut, he pried one lid open and knew instantly why he had jerked awake in the first place.

Hovering in the space above him was the prettiest girl he had ever seen (which probably wasn't all that impressive since the only girl he was ever used to seeing for years was Lady Palutena). But she was young, probably his age, and super-tan skin that blended with her sunburnt-orange hair piled up her head. She smiled at him softly, and her cerulean blue eyes lit up with it. She had a rather warm, fuzzy glow that seemingly stemmed from her soft pink-hearted earrings. Pit was entranced and horrified at the same time—partly because this chick was literally _straddling_ her legs around his waist. There was something seriously wrong about that, but he couldn't really say what.

Pit retracted from the girl under the covers. "Who _are_ you? And-and what are you doing in my bed?!"

The angel-girl frowned slightly. Pit figured she had been resting at his feet all this time until he had been notified by her presence. "I'm Teegan, servant to Lord Cupid. He assigned me the task of taking care of you."

"Okay . . . " Pit's mind was whirling. This girl was still too close. "But do you have to be _in my bed_ to do that?"

"I guess not . . ."

"Then get off!" Pit said. The girl clambered down from him his bed with a heavy look. Pit cast a look at her from the side. He recognized her now, from the first time he and Dark Pit had visited Cupid. She hadn't introduced herself then, but those big blue eyes wasn't something that he'd liable to forget easily.

Pit groaned silently. If this was one of Cupid's servants, then he must be at Cupid's Palace. But why was he here, and not at Palutena's Temple? His brain pounded with the effort of thinking, and the excitement of being startled awake in a new situation was catching up to Pit. Every breath he took was a renewed stab in the back; with a cringe of pain, he was reminded of what had happened in the storm.

"I'm at Cupid's place, aren't I?" moaned Pit, his face buried in his pillow. Though he could not see the room at that moment, he had only caught a glimpse of it while calling the girl out.

"Yes," Teegan replied quietly. "Lord Cupid brought you here to take care of you, after you were struck down by lightning."

"Great," said Pit.

""Are you still hurt?" she asked him, obviously concerned.

"Yeah. It hurts like crazy," he replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. He resigned to biting down on his tongue again, hot tears forming in his eyes. He gripped the top edge of the bed in pain. "Where's Lady Palutena? Why am I here?"

"Lord Cupid brought you." He could hear her footsteps crossing the room to the sound of clinking glass. "He brought you here to take care of you, after you were struck by lightning."

"Um . . . okay." Some part of Pit wondered why in the world Palutena couldn't have just done that, but for some reason he couldn't speak. The pain in his back was almost too much for him to bear, and he was horribly confused.

"Pit. Come on. Sit up, and stop refusing to look at me."

Pit turned his head and looked at her, eyes red. She smiled at him sadly, encouragingly, and Pit felt as though all she was trying to do was to help. He then sat up completely, sour and bitter, looking down at the glass of cool blue liquid she held out to him.

"Drink this," she told him. "It'll make the pain go away."

Pit did as she asked. The light blue liquid that he brought to his lips tasted like cotton candy and mint; cool and syrupy. Pit was sad when he was done drinking it. Soon he found that the pain in his chest and back had faded, making him able to breathe easy once again.

Pit licked his lips, handing the glass back to the pretty girl. He looked at her measuredly, carefully. "You still haven't answered my question," he said. "Where's Lady Palutena?"

Teegan shifted in a very obvious way. She didn't want to tell Pit the truth, that much was very clear.

"Is there some reason why she hasn't come to get me yet?" he asked, anxiety increasing. "Why Cupid had to take care of me, and not her?"

"I assure you, you are in the very best care," she said, not looking at him. "Lord Cupid has the best potions and salves to ensure your continued recovery."

"Yeah, but why isn't she here?" demanded Pit. Teegan didn't reply. Pit sat back in his bed, his arms crossed over his chest. He wanted answers, but he wasn't going to get them from her. He couldn't really blame her; all she seemed to be doing was following the orders of her master. Pit would do the same if was PAlutena, he knew, but this was just making him angry! Out of nowhere, he asked, "How long have I been out?"

"Um, about 26 hours."

"More than a day!" exclaimed Pit. Lady Palutena must be worried sick! There HAD to be a good reason as to why she hadn't come to check on him yet. Was she in as much trouble as he had been with the lightning, perhaps? He hoped that wasn't the case. "Are-are you SURE she hasn't come to check up on me?  
"

The girl sighed patiently as she put her materials away on the table on the opposite side of the medical room. "Nothing has happened to your goddess," she replied. "Lord Cupid just took the opportunity to come in and save you himself. He's . . . put a lot of stress on your goddess, but he has confidence that she'll figure out where you are eventually."

"Why go through all the trouble?" Pit asked, pulling the covers up around him and turning his back towards her.

"Because I can be quite selfish sometimes," said another voice. Pit turned in the direction of the doorway. There stood Cupid, arms crossed and hip cocked to rest on the doorframe. His wings shown beautifully in the warm light of the hallway directly behind him, and Pit seethed with an anger he didn't even know he possessed.

"Cupid," Pit half moaned, half grumbled. He shut his eyes.

"Aw, why you got to say it like that?" Cupid said, a beguiling smile on his face. He made his way into the room, the girl shuffling aside. "Teegan here calls me Lord Cupid."

"I don't serve you, said Pit aloud. "I serve Lady Palutena. What am I doing here?"

"Pit, I _saved_ you. You got blasted out of the sky, remember?"

How could he forget _that?_ But Pit didn't want to give him his thanks yet. He opened his eyes to find Cupid standing right over him, his green eyes inquiring. Pit sat up. "I know that. But where is she?"

Cupid _tssked._ "Always pining after your matron. I'm a little hurt that you're not interested in talking to me. I mean, besides your twin, I'm the only angel you've ever met. And I've lived a full life just open for the talking. But do I get any special consideration? _Nope!"_

Pit gazed at him silently. If his goddess were here, she would know how to make Cupid talk. Because Palutena always knew what to do. But for now, she wasn't here, and Pit figured Cupid had something to do with it. He couldn't _help_ but feel as if he were being held there against his will.

"How do I know _you_ aren't the one who blasted me with lightning?"

Cupid let out a short laugh. "Ha! I'm flattered, but my power doesn't extend _quite_ as far as that."

It made sense, anyway. Palutena had been muttering about Zeus when the worst of the storm had revealed itself.

You know, _before_ Pit had gotten struck by lightning.

"So, what?" Pit said. "You've been keeping tabs on me to jump in at the last moment to save me when I most needed it? Sounds pretty convenient."

"Don't think you're so special. I kept tabs on both you and your cute little twin after I sent you off from my Palace the first time. That potion that I gave you? I slipped in a little tracking powder as well. It'll wear off in a few days time, but I'd say it served you for the better, wouldn't you agree?"

Pit didn't reply. Cupid shrugged and came to rest on the edge of the bed. "Think what you may, I think it is _past_ time for the two of us to know each other more. And who knows? Maybe you'll surprise me as much as I know I'll surprise you."

"What would I know? You've been alive longer than me."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Cupid, a simpering smile on his face. "There's much Palutena has kept hidden from you. You're _bound_ to find out about it eventually. But I wouldn't worry about that right now," he said, and his hand brushed the younger angel's cheek ever so gently. Then he got up to stand. "You've got much rest to catch up on. Would you like some food? Dio has been in the kitchen preparing some food. We've been expecting . . . guests ever since I beamed you back here."

Pit opened his mouth to speak, but found it extremely difficult for some reason. Ever since Cupid had entered the room, his eyelids had been getting heavier and heavier. _What guests?_ Pit wanted to ask. Was Cupid going to kidnap more people like he had with him? Because that's what this was; a kidnapping, no matter how much Cupid or Teegan tried to butter it up.

"Oh, don't worry about answering," said Cupid, but Pit didn't even see him, because his eyes were already closed. "You must be exhausted. I'll be sure to bring you some food when it's ready . . . but you shouldn't try and trouble yourself with getting up. You'll be fast asleep by then, I'm sure."

Then Pit heard him and Teegan walk out of the room. The other angel must have worked some magic into his last words, because faster than Pit could count to ten, Pit was drooling into his pillow without a care in the world.

 **XxX**

Cupid smirked as he and the brunette made their way out of the medical room. She started listing off the statistics of the angel's condition, repeating time after time that the angel was making wonderful recovery. As was expected, thought Cupid. The angel was _only_ struck by lightning. Regeneration would come naturally to the kid . . . but it was best not to jeopordize the healing process. Yes, what the angel needed most was some rejuvenating sleep, and not worry his cute little head about anything more beyond getting better.

Oh, because how could he deny it! Pit was too adorable when he slept. Both he and his twin were absolute jewels.

Cupid cast a look to the open window outside. Ella and Nikki were nowhere to be found, which meant everything was going smoothly. It was time to check on his other little treasure . . .

 **XxX**

 **A/N: Damn, is that Viridi being all jelly and possessive with Dark Pit kissing some other chick? INTRIGUE!**

 **I already said what I needed to say about the OC girls I've created, but I suppose I'll say it again; I'm not trying to pair these boys up with any random OCs in the future. It's really not going to end up being *that* kind of story. And even if I do pair them up, in the future, I will try and give them some depth before anything like that happens.**

 **I know this was a filler chapter, but I felt like I had a lot of holes to fill. This story is moving so fast! I don't ever want it to end!**

 **I jumped around with alot of POVs here in this, but I thought they were necessary transitions. For future reference, I'll try not to do this so much with OCs to keep the confusion down. Unless you happen to really like a particular OC . . . then an exception can surely be made!**

 **Um, also. I know being struck by lightning takes months to recover, and includes years of physical therapy to boot. Don't count on Pit's speedy recovery as a result of lack of knowledge! Even Teegan said that he was only making speedy recovery on account of his angel abilities!**

 **As a side note: I will be adding just ONE more OC to this story. Just one! (And kudos to those who figure out who it will be-what god, especially!-since I've already made mention of his name a couple of times, anyway.) Phosphora will be making an appearance here too.**

 **Please Review!**


	15. Concerning the Death of a God

_**"Do you hear that? Do you hear the people's cheers? They're celebrating the return of the Goddess Palutena!"—**_ **Pit, in Chapter 1**

 **XxX**

"CUPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID!"

Pit jolted awake. No, wait. That couldn't be right. Only a voice that loud and pissed could belong to Viridi, which meant that he had definitely fallen back asleep straight into a nightmare.

"Ah, Madame Viridi," Pit heard Cupid reply. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Cut the crap. I know what you've been doing. My angel Dark Pit landed here not too long ago, and one of your pretty little servants seduced him, kissing him on the lips. Next thing I know, my connection with him is lost, and I blame you!"

Cupid sounded truly appalled. "Pretty servants? Blaming me?"

"Don't play stupid with me!" There was a thud and a shatter, and Pit could almost swear that Viridi had pinned Cupid to a wall. "This _is_ your isle, right?"

"Yes."

"Then where is Dark Pit?!"

 _Dark Pit?_ Pit thought lazily, his mind still slow from the medicine he had taken. Why would he be here? A bit too slow, it occurred to him that Palutena and Viridi would still probably be looking for him—and as a result, Dark Pit would be too.

But something seemed wrong. Viridi was here, and not Palutena. And now, Viridi was asking Cupid for Dark Pit.

Pit pushed aside some covers, wincing as he did so. He remembered chatting with Cupid and Teegan, before drifting off to sleep once more. He still had a lot of questions floating around in his mind, and he knew that he deserved some answers. Cupid had told him before he had passed out that he had already been knocked out for at least 26 hours when the lightning first stuck, so who knew how much had happened while he was just sitting here at Cupid's Palace? _Well, that's it,_ he thought, his feet bare on the Medicine Wing's tiled floor. _I'm not going to be left in the dark much longer._

Pit's hands fumbled for purchase as he made it to the other side of the room. His fingers caught on the Medical Wing's doorway, and he tried to steady himself. Cupid and Viridi were still arguing somewhere further down the hallway, but Pit didn't think it was all that far away. The pain in his chest and back weren't all that bad, and so he figured that it really hadn't been all that long since Teegan had given him the medicine he'd needed last. He gripped the wall's edge, pushing himself off to go right, straight towards the noises. Slowly to the edge of the Main Hall, an unsteady hand on the wall to guide and balance him as he went.

As he had imagined, Viridi had cornered Cupid in one corner of the room, staff in hand and bristling and shouting all types of accusations. Though she was smaller than the captive angel, her anger certainly made up for it. Cupid looked, not surprisingly, like he was enjoying himself.

"Dark Pit is here?" Pit asked from the Hall's Eastern doorway.

Viridi, her back to him, whipped around to face the younger angel in surprise. " _You?!"_

"Yes, he is," Cupid answered him, as calm as ever.

"Wh-Why? How?" Pit said, itching the back of his head in confusion.

"He's not hurt at all," Cupid said, mostly for Viridi's benefit, as she looked back and forth between the other two wildly. "He's actually quite enjoying himself. I just needed him to test something out. The results were quite successful."

"You used him for an experiment?!" Viridi flamed.

"Yes," Cupid said again, prying the other's fingers from off his chiton. He smiled slightly while taking care to straighten out his clothing. "As a matter of fact—"

"Where's Lady Palutena?" Pit asked Viridi.

She blinked. "That's actually what I was wondering. I—I'm thinking she might be in trouble." The goddess rounded up on Cupid. " _That's_ why I need Dark Pit! She could be in danger!"

"Tena's in trouble?" said Pit, and for the first time since Viridi's arrival, Cupid looked troubled. "And you forgot to tell me this-how?"

"You knew?" Viridi said through gritted teeth, her gaze falling to Cupid's once more.

"I didn't know," said Cupid, his composure breaking at last. "Last I knew, she was on her way to find Pit-"

"But instead, you were too busy using Dark Pit as your little guinea pig!" yelled Viridi.

"I thought I had everything under control," muttered Cupid darkly. "Where was the last time you saw her?"

"At her Temple," she said with growing impatience. "She said she was going to Lord Zeus to confront the one who might have struck Pit down with lightning-though I'm still not all that convinced it _wasn't_ you working alongside him all this time-"

"I am _not_ working with Zeus," said Cupid with finality. "I saw Pit get struck by lightning, just as Palutena did. I just saw my chance to get to know the angel better without Palutena's annoying interference, and took it."

"You freaking pervert," said Viridi under her breath.

"I have no clue as to what Zeus may be up to, but it seems to me that he's got something loose inside that brain of his to be acting so rashly as he has been now," concluded Cupid, ignoring Viridi's last comment.

"None of this clears anything," said Viridi, stomping away from Cupid before she could do any greater harm to him. "You may not have struck Pit down with lightning, but you still kidnapped him. And were spying on him. I mean, who does that?"

"Cupid," said Pit, rolling his eyes, and Cupid smirked at him cheekily.

Viridi gave a growl, crossing her arms. "I still need to find out what's happened to her there," said Viridi, breathing hard. "Now I'm worried-if Zeus was unstable enough to incapacitate Pit, then who knows what he could've done to Palutena on her own-"

"Hey, I'm not as incapacitated as you may think," said Pit, brightening up at the idea of being useful. "Just use me. I mean, if she's in trouble-"

"No way," Cupid said, attention diverted. "You should be laying down, Pit. The after-effects of the lightning—"

"So it _was_ you!" Viridi fumed, her anger making her irrational. "What do you think you're trying to pull?"

Cupid rolled his eyes. "I'm the God of Love, remember? Do I _look_ like I can blast angels out of the sky?"

"Competent enough to seduce them into your—"

There was the sound of a splash in another room. Though it was far off, the noise echoed throughout the sprawling space of Main Hall, followed by laughter.

"Pool?" Pit completed.

"Who else do you have in this palace of yours, Cupid?" Viridi questioned. Cupid just shrugged innocently. She gave an exasperated sigh, and began to stalk to towards the sound of running water. Pit, not without a glance to Cupid, followed her.

To the left of the Main Hall was a long hallway, filled with mist. A warm, gold aura filled the area, brightest in the room at the end. Dark Pit laughed again, splashing more water on the other person there in the pool. The girl shrieked; wet, blond curls hanging down her face, and giggled uncontrollably. Another girl with short, red hair came up behind Dark Pit, shoving his shoulders down and submerging him underwater.

Pit couldn't believe his eyes. Dark Pit actually looked _happy—_ not amused, and not smirking or sarcastic, but actually . . . happy.

Viridi almost looked as surprised as he did—for a moment. "Dark Pit's possessed," she grumbled. "This can't be real."

Pit had his doubts. Dark Pit came out of the water and grinned, putting his arms around the red-head's waist. The girl tried to break free but couldn't, but it didn't seem like she was trying all that hard to break free anyway. Dark Pit pecked her on the cheek, and she blushed furiously.

Viridi gave some sort of mix between a yelp and a gasp. Before he knew it, she was twirling her staff above her head, samurai style, making Pit duck. At last she slammed her staff in the pool, and a thick, brown substance poured forth from the bottom end of it, bubbling to the surface. Pit was agape as he observed the water's transformation into the sludgy brown stuff. The blond and the red-head shrieked, swimming towards the other end of the pool to escape the stuff, and Dark Pit scrambled out from the other end, looking around in absent horror.

"What _is_ this?" Dark Pit shouted at her.

Viridi smiled thinly. "Livestock excrement. Animal feces. Manure. Whatever you prefer."

Dark Pit glared at the Nature Goddess from across the room, and Viridi merely smirked.

 **XxX**

The girls ran off to the next room, cries of disgust carrying after them. Cupid entered the room in shock over seeing his pool filled with crap. Dark Pit stalked out of the pool room, his mood surly once more.

"The girls took a certain potion that made their most appealing qualities even more appealing to the first person who saw them," Cupid said, hands behind his back and a look of barely subdued calm upon his face. "When said person sees—or hears the person- with the potion on them, they affect a type of 'puppy love', you could say. Now," he said, his voice taking on a slight mood change, "would you _please_ return my pool back to normal?!"

Viridi looked quite satisfied with herself, watching Cupid crack like this. "No . . . I think I'll keep it this way."

"My –my pool is full of _shit!_ "

"It's not completely her fault, Cupid," Pit quipped, trying to play peacemaker. "You sort of instigated her to do this. All she really wanted was to get Dark Pit back, and she finds out that you've put some sort of spell on him to keep him here—that's enough to make anyone angry. Besides," Pit said, "the longer we wait, the longer it'll take for us to see what's happened to Lady Palutena."

Cupid turned back to Viridi. "Fine. I'll be willing to turn your angel back to normal, if you're willing to turn my pool back to its original state."

Viridi was still going to take some work. Not one to forgive grudges easily, she stood there, her arms crossed and her expression steely.

"Viridi," Pit said to her, "Cupid was just playing one his games. He kidnapped me too, you know. But we can't dwell on this situation right now. At least we're safe. Right now, we need Dark Pit to see whether Palutena is alright."

That finally sold her. Viridi nodded curtly, and Cupid took the initiative. He stepped to a still-scowling Dark Pit and took out a small vial of some sea-green liquid from the pocket of his clothing. Dark Pit took it in a single gulp, and immediately, the pinkish-red tint from the angel's eyes that Pit hadn't noticed until now went away.

"I don't feel any different," Dark Pit grumbled.

"It's the antidote. Trust me." Cupid reassured him, although Pit couldn't see the god as being entirely trustworthy in the first place. "Once the girls come back here, you won't go all googly-eyed for them like you did last time. Now, my pool . . .?"

Viridi was already at its edge. Twirling it above her head in the same fashion she had last time, she then brought her staff down with a sounding _thud._ The brown sludge drained away, being sucked into the staff like some sort of vacuum. Soon the pool was empty, without water or manure in it.

Cupid frowned. "Well. I'm not going to be swimming in _that_ thing anytime soon."

Viridi turned from the pool, stalking towards him angrily. "Look, angel-boy," Viridi said to Cupid. "This isn't over. No god should abuse their powers against another god so free-handedly—no matter how indirectly."

Cupid shrugged, nonchalant, and Pit despaired. This obviously wasn't over.

" _No need to start another war, you two,"_ spoke a familiar voice. " _I'm fine. Though I appreciate the effort of trying to get them to reconcile with each other, Pit."_

"Lady Palutena!" Pit cried jubilantly. "You're okay!"

"Where have you been?!" Viridi demanded. "We thought you had been captured! We were about to come after you!"

" _I appreciate the thought, Viridi,"_ Palutena said. She sounded weary. " _I haven't been captured, but I'm afraid that my power has been severely weakened . . . I can't explain it, but I am unable to beam back myself."_

 _"_ What happened to you?!" Pit cried. "Did someone attack?"

"She said she didn't know, Pit-Stain," Dark Pit grumbled for the first time. "Sheesh. Are you dumb _and_ hard of hearing?" It didn't surprise Pit that his first contribution to the conversation happened to be an insult directed to him.

"I'm obviously not dumb if I'm still talking," Pit said sorely.

"And I'm obviously not talking about the physical condition," Dark Pit replied. "I'm talking about the stupid type."

" _Be nice, Pittoo,"_ Palutena warned. " _He was just worried. I'll tell you everything once you pick me up—as embarrassing as that sounds."_

 _"_ I guess you're going to have to get used to it, Palutena _,"_ Cupid quipped. "Remember when _I_ had to be picked up all the time, when I was smaller?"

" _Oh great, you've found Cupid,"_ Palutena said without much enthusiasm. " _The way I remember it, I had to pick you up when you were older, too, as you were falling down drunk at one of Dio's parties."_

Pit had to laugh at that. Even Viridi couldn't hold in a smile.

"Who's Dio?" Dark Pit demanded, his mood still nasty. "I'm getting sick of all these new gods running around all over the place."

Cupid's smile became a grin. "You'll find out soon enough," the god promised. "Right now, though, we have a goddess to retrieve."

 **XxX**

Viridi was actually the one who finally picked up Palutena. Turns out, beaming up a goddess was basically the same as beaming up an angel. The four waited in Cupid's Main Hall, waiting for the goddess to make her appearance.

Dark Pit seemed to be in a much better mood now, though he still didn't look at Viridi. He had showered, his face and hair clean from Viridi's own putrid cleansing, and had even borrowed a fresh tunic from Cupid's own wardrobe. Upon seeing Pittoo's new outfit of yellow and pink, Pit was inclined to laugh until tears came to his eyes, but then Dark Pit gave him a look that could silence an army.

At last, Palutena made her entrance. She looked exhausted—though that didn't stop Viridi from pestering her with questions.

"What happened to you up there?" Viridi demanded. "I couldn't get a connection to you for a while—I spent, like, twenty minutes talking to myself and trying to figure out why you weren't replying back!"

"It's odd," Pit commented, looking at Palutena with worry. "Did Zeus have anything to do with this? Because if he was the one who struck me with lightning, he—"

"Lord Zeus is dead," Palutena said bluntly.

The four of them snapped to her in shock.

"What do you mean, _dead?_ " Cupid said, shocked.

"Just that." In her tone there was no feeling, no life. "Something had possessed Zeus into striking Pit down with lightning—a something called the Chaos Kin."

"No!" Viridi said, pounding her Staff down on the ground aggressively. "The Kin is locked away—up in the Lunar Sanctum with Arlon!"

"That's not what I meant," Palutena said, her calm a bit unnerving to Pit, seeming to go outside of herself. "After it attacks, it leaves a Mark on its prey, so it knows where it last left off if it doesn't get the chance to . . . finish its meal." There was a collective shiver around the room. "Lord Zeus must have been possessed by the Chaos Kin during its first break out—before I had even found you, Pit, to save me from Medusa the first time. It wasn't until I came to Zeus that the Mark had taken his life—it took months for it to take affect—"

"Palutena, are you saying that Zeus had the Mark on him?" Viridi asked.

"Yes," she said, little emotion in her voice. Through the whole conversation Pit could help but notice her eyes that roamed around the room—on the floor, towards the backs wall, and to the scepter at her side—but never did they pause to look at the audience around her. "I am guessing that it was the Mark that the Kin left inflicted permanent damage on its host. If the Kin never makes it back to its host, the Mark wears on its victim, driving him slowly insane until, at the end, it kills him. And I was a fool . . ." Palutena paused, a note of solemn reflection seeping into her voice. A flicker of uncertainty, of confusion shown in her eyes. "I should've visited him more often, so I could've been more aware of the signs that he's been subject to-"

"No. NO! It can't be true!" Pit shouted, a panic rising in his chest. Palutena had covered her eyes, and Viridi and Cupid were looking at her in a way that implied that something terrible had fallen on her . . . "I defeated that monster! We captured it! It can't be causing any more hurt and pain after all we've been through!"

"I'm so sorry, Pit," Palutena told him, sorrow slowly creeping into her features and breaking down the stoic façade she had kept up for so long. "I-I had no idea about the aftereffects of the Kin-an outbreak like this one had never really happened before in my life time."

"It's not fair!" Pit said, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He could feel the tears burning at the back of his eyelids, but it would be too embarrassing, too embarrassing to start crying right then. Dark Pit was watching, and so was Cupid . . .

Palutena had an arm out to him, and Pit buried himself in her warm embrace almost immediately. She kissed him on the top of his head fiercely, and Pit held onto her tight. "I'm actually surprised that I haven't gone completely insane by now," she said nonchalantly. "The Kin had its way with my mind and body for years, whereas with Zeus, it was only latched onto him for perhaps a few months-"

"Palutena," chided Cupid coldly. "Stop."

Pit, in her arms, was trembling. "You don't have it," said Pit, his voice muffled and high pitched. "You can't-"

Pursing her lips, she turned to Cupid and Viridi both, "Lord Zeus had the Mark on the back of his neck, I haven't been able to check—"

Viridi proceeded at once, sweeping up to the Goddess of Light to brush her green hair to the side to examine the back of her neck. Her face paled, and she stepped back jerkily. "She's got it," Viridi said, her voice thick.

"I won't believe it," Pit said, shaking his head in denial. "I can't! This can't b-be happening again. You can't be s-sick, Lady Palutena—you can't d-die—"

"I'm so sorry, Pit," Palutena said, stroking a hand through his hair. He bit his lip until the skin broke, and he could taste the blood on his tongue. But the tears kept on coming. "There doesn't seem to be a plan for this one."

"Don't say it like that," Pit said, voice breaking. "We'll find a cure in time—we won't let you die."

"And I will help undo what the Kin has done," Viridi vowed. "No matter what it takes."

Pit tried to take comfort in Viridi's words, but it was hard. It felt like Palutena was already fading away . . . Suddenly, the events of the last few weeks made so much sense. Her recent memory loss, her mood swings, her periods of depression . . . He gripped her tighter, fresh tears dampening her shoulder.

"We have time," Cupid said thoughtfully. His head was bowed in thought. "If Lord Zeus was infected before you had even found Pit—well, that was well over 25 years ago, wasn't it?"

"Not—not quite," said Palutena. "I believe—I believe the Kin might have infected Zeus before it moved onto another host with more of an influence in the War going on between Hades and Viridi at the time. Me. It didn't get to me much sooner after that. If it had been well over 25 years ago . . . well . . . the chances of his dying now and me feeling the effects of the Mark wouldn't make much sense, now would it?"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't," said Cupid. "But still . . . I need answers," Cupid said promptly. "ELLA!" he bellowed. "Damn, I need to get some bells around here." His bright eyes darted to Palutena's. "We can't even be sure whether you're more susceptible to the Mark than he was. Of course . . . perhaps the Kin DID take a hold of Zeus 25 years ago, when it was last seen. The Mark could've taken all this time to wear away at its victim, meaning that-Palutena very well could still have some time."

"You mean it?" said Pit, looking at him with hope in his shining eyes.

"Yes, I mean it," said Cupid, nodding surely. "But. . . there's no way to know for sure. I'll need to monitor Palutena's progress just in case. For all we know, you may fade away from its affect sooner than he did."

"Fade away?" Pit said tentatively. "Is that like . . . dying?"

"Not quite," Cupid said, watching as Ella entered briskly from the west hallway with a pen and a scroll of paper in hand. "Fading away is what god's do when they have reached their limit. When they reach their time, Pit. Gods live a long time, but they aren't forever. But in this case, the Mark seems to be draining the life from the beings it attaches itself to," Cupid said, motioning for Ella to keep writing. "Not like the Chaos Kin, where after the power is drained, they move on to the next host, becoming more and more strong as they go. But like all diseases, it only purpose is to wear out the victim until they have nothing left."

"Way to pour out all the details," Dark Pit said, casting Cupid a glare. "Apathetic, much?"

"Everything about this is speculation," Cupid said, with equal malice. "As harsh as this may seem, I'm posing all of these questions and hypothetical situations because I'm trying to help. And what are _you_ doing, little angel?"

"Alright," said Palutena, firmly. She drew back from Pit a little, though it was virtually impossible to get far from him now. He was beginning to get clingy. "Thank you, Cupid, for the support. It could prove beneficial . . . but right now, it's not the time to fight." She looked to the ground. "Soon, we need to stop by Lord Zeus' temple, to retrieve his ill form. I want to give him a . . . a proper send off."

"I'll have Dio retrieve him at once," Cupid said, looking up from what Ella had jotted down so far. He gave Dark Pit a more-than-interested sort of look. "I might even have this one help me out too."

"What did I tell you about messing with my authority?" Viridi fired. "Dark Pit is under _my_ jurisdiction, not yours! Dark Pit won't be used like some common household servant to retrieve Zeus' body—!"

"Viridi," Palutena snapped. "Some respect, please."

Viridi adhered to her words, took a deep breath and sighed. "I'll have Dark Pit lead my Forces of Nature go to Lord Zeus' Temple to pick him up."

"Actually, I was wondering if I could stay with Pit for a while." Dark Pit's voice was level, but his intent was clear. He wanted nothing to do with Viridi for the moment.

Viridi looked a little shocked at his request. Blinking several times before giving her answer, caught in between the throes of anger and outrage, she said shortly, "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" fired Dark Pit. "I can do whatever the hell I want, thank you very much, and I want to stay with Pit!"

"No, you can't!" she said, her voice higher pitched than normal. "We still need someone to keep track of everything that's been going down on the Overworld! These earthquakes, these volcano eruptions, and this new force of Underworlders that no one seems to know about—"

"Then have Phosphora look into it!" shouted Dark Pit. "Or Cragalanche, or Arlon!"

"You know that would never do," said Viridi tersely. "Cragalanche isn't trained for missions like this, you know that! Arlon needs to guard the Lunar Sanctum, and Phosphora—she's—"

"She's what?" said Dark Pit snidely. "Not as easy to boss around like I am?"

"You're being selfish!" said Viridi. "You can't just choose what you decide you feel like doing all of a sudden! There are forces down there that are bigger than just you and me, new forces, coming together, planning- something!- and you decide you want to stay at Skyworld and hang out and basically ignore what's been about to pass?"

"You act as if you were helpless before I came into the picture," said Dark Pit. "I've only been with you for less than a year and all of a sudden it's like you can't live without me!"

"This. Is. Different!" said Viridi, her hands clenching, and Pit wondered if she would've rather wanted to wrap her hands around his neck. "Don't you see that? The Earth is sick—"

"You two!" Palutena shouted, stunning the two into silence. "You need to stop. You need to _focus._ Let's concentrate on getting Lord Zeus back from his temple—and work from there—alright?"

Viridi rolled her eyes and refused to look at Dark Pit as a result. "Fine."

Pit looked to the two of them in fear, feeling as if the whole world was turning upside down. Palutena was sick, Dark Pit and Viridi were fighting now more than ever, and from the looks of it, he was going to have to stay at Cupid's Palace for the time being. Well, forget it. No matter what happened, he thought, he didn't want to stay away from his goddess a moment longer. "I-I'm staying with Lady Palutena!" Pit cried, still a little tearful.

"That's fine," Palutena said, smoothing down Pit's messy hair with one hand. "Nobody's going to take you away from me. I think for now I'll be going to down to my Temple—"

"Not so fast, Palutena," Cupid said cautiously. "You weren't even able to use your powers to teleport yourself. How do you think any of your other powers are going to hold up?"

"My Temple is where the bulk of my power is stored," Palutena said, gripping her staff with resolve. "If you want me to get better—"

"I do," Cupid said, persistent. "But you can't hope to heal on your own, with your power gone for the moment. You need to stay here. I need to take notes on your condition still, and it's obvious that I have the most materials you need in the chance that you'll get better."

"Don't believe a word he's saying, Palutena," Viridi said, looking at him warily. "I wouldn't."

"It would be foolish not to listen to him," Palutena said heavily. "It's just- my centurions are still there, and my Temple will be left unguarded—"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Viridi said. " I can just send Phosphora to watch over it for you when you're gone."

"Are you sure about that?" Dark Pit said. "Because the last time Phosphora watched over someone else's Temple, it crumpled to pieces."

"Oh, just shut up," Viridi said, waving her hand dismissively. "That old place was already falling apart."

"So it's decided then," Cupid said, putting his hands together. "No offense, Palutena, but you look like hell."

Lady Palutena nodded. "It's been a long day."

"I'll have Teegan show you up to your room," said Cupid, his voice softening, and Pit thought that the tone was sincere. "I'll be over with the materials necessary to figure out what stage your body is in with this disease."

Palutena nodded solemnly.

As Cupid yelled for Teegan and Viridi and Dark Pit left to go and organize some troops to retrieve the Sky God's body at once, Pit looked up to his goddess once more. She caught him staring and gave him a weary smile, a smile that was probably meant to be hopeful, he supposed, about the future. Well, Pit didn't want to admit it to her, but she kind of sucked at lying, even if it was through her expressions. Because behind her smile then lay a expression of hopelessness and a rather uncanny resolve to her fate.

 _She thinks she's going to die,_ thought Pit, and the depressing thought gnawed at him. Pit wondered exactly what Palutena had seen at Zeus' Temple to give her such a perspective. Had Zeus' death been _that_ horrible? Pit didn't know what to think. All he knew . . . _We'll find a cure. WE HAVE to._ Because if Palutena died . . . faded away . . . _whatever_ \- he didn't know if he'd ever be the same. What was the point of being a centurion without anything to fight for? Palutena was the goddess of Light, of hope, of good, and if she died . . . the world would be in Chaos. And Pit's world would be too.

 **XxX**

 **A/N:I** **n the last chapter I mentioned a sort-of kind-of OC that I came up with on the spot. "Sonus" is sound in Latin, and since thunder is the result of sound vacuums in the sky, I just sort of turned up with his name on Google translate. I imagined him to be the last occupier of the Thunder Cloud Temple (Chapter 14, Kid Icarus Uprising). I figured there had to have been a good reason for the temple to be unoccupied, so I let the Chaos Kin have him.**

 **I'm thinking of changing my genre for this fanfiction from Drama/Angst to just Drama/Adventure. I don't do angst all that well, though I suppose there's still a lot of it going on in the story, there has probably been more adventure in this story than anything else.**

 **REALLY random fun fact: I based the symptoms and progression of Palutena's illness off of Mad Cow disease.**

 **Please review.**


	16. Secret Missions and Prophecies

**_"Seriously, that is the last time I ever want to hear 'Pittoo'!"—Dark Pit_**

 **XxX**

Dark Pit shivered, reflecting on what he deemed to be the worst job he had ever had to do. Retrieving the Sky God's body from his Temple had been thoroughly unpleasant-worse even than being covered in the magical animal feces that had poured out from Viridi's Staff only because of the fact that the task had been majorly depressing as well. The Sky God lay in Cupid's gardens now, not far from where Dark Pit had been seduced by Cupid's servants upon entry there.

Smaller forces of Nature had gathered around to decorate the god's resting place with flowers and other simple decorations. They handled the procession with mute solemnity. Dark Pit, however, was just extremely uncomfortable. Touching a dead body was scarring enough. Touching a dead _god's_ body was like taboo. He wondered idly if the disease was contagious-his eyes darted around wildly-he wondered if Cupid would be available to answer his question-

"Creepy, isn't it?"

Dark Pit whipped around. There stood Viridi, her arms crossed and looking at the god with stern contemplation. It was not the god's final resting place, but it was decided that the god would remain there until a proper funeral could be set up at the god's own Temple, which would take a few days, at the very least. And Dark Pit was confident that he would be the one conducting everything. Fantastic, he thought.

"Yeah," he muttered, trying not to sound too callous. He looked to the Nature Goddess. "Did you know him?"

"No, not really," said Viridi. A nature sprite passed by her, and she let her fingers linger on the petals of the flowers it carried. The petals unfurled and flourished underneath her touch. "But still . . . sort of makes you stop and think, you know?"

"What are you thinking about?" said Dark Pit, his paranoia swirling in the drain as he realized that this was the first sane conversation he had with Viridi-alone-since he had been attacked by Sterling days ago. For once, he didn't feel the need to leap down her throat and trip her up-didn't feel like he needed to prove her wrong with every passing chance. For once, he felt as though they were equals . . .

"How quickly life passes by," said Viridi. "I've never seen a dead god before. It's-it's different than the dead things of Overworld die. Animals don't really compare, do they?"

"No, they wouldn't," said Dark Pit, casting her a glance. "But, like you said, you can't save everyone," he pointed out, repeating what the goddess had told him during his defense of the tree nymph Eden down at the Overworld.

Viridi didn't retaliate or lash back at him for using her own words against him, which surprised him. Instead, he saw her light brown gaze soften mournfully, filled with an expression that he supposed all gods held every once and a while-regret.

Dark Pit didn't like gods. He didn't think he ever would. It was just an inborn opinion of his, he figured-stemming from the fact that he was the complete opposite of Pit. Pit was fiercely loyal to his goddess, Palutena, and anything that stood against her safety was probably in trouble. Dark Pit thought that his twin was incredibly naive for that-probably now more than ever. Dark Pit knew that if it turned out that Palutena was hiding even more things about Pit and his past, the angel would end up coming out of that feeling more disillusioned than anything in his life.

Dark Pit didn't like gods, or what they stood for. He didn't like the way they demanded absolute respect from their followers, because for all he knew, that was the only way they could function. He didn't like what they represented, or the why they had complete power over the Overworld. Of course such a temperamental thing such as magic would only serve to cause destruction in the hands of one single individual! Even if that power was split up-who knew how major the consequences could be?

Gods were just as unbalanced and as emotional as humans. So why should they dictate the fate of the whole world?

Saying that to say ... he really didn't have anything against gods personally. Sure, they had authority that came from somewhere and none of it made any real sense, and they tended to abuse that authority if their egos became too bloated, but that didn't mean that they weren't worthy enough individuals to even survive.

Gods were beings who deserved to live just as the humans and the plants and the animals did. And Viridi could very much be his equal, he thought then, watching as the sun cast her skin in a refreshing light, and the white butterflies from the springtime season twirled around her. Gods could even be trusted . . .

. . . just as long as they didn't try to boss him around.

"We _need_ to figure out why the Overworld is decaying," Viridi said, stirring Dark Pit out of his inner monologue. She turned to him,"Dark Pit-you know as well as I do that something is up. Ever since we first saw Pandora's Box, things have been stirring. Before you had gone to Cupid's Palace, Phosphora had alerted me to a disturbance . . ."

Dark Pit remembered, and by Viridi's embarrassed pause, she recalled the incident quite well. Dark Pit had proclaimed that he was going down with Pit to Cupid's Palace to help him uncover the secret of the Wind Spirits instead of investigating exactly what Phosphora was referring to. Viridi had threatened him to drop him the rest of the 40 feet down to the Palace's platform for disobeying his orders, but now it seemed like she was over it.

"A-anyway, she went down there to investigate, and . . . you were right. It wasn't the dragon at all." Before Dark Pit could call her out and say he told her so, she continued. "It's like - nothing I've seen before. Dark Pit, the trees were decaying on their own-wilting like Eden's tree in the forest, wrinkling into abominations of their natural selves. And at their core . . ."

" . . . you mean, what was at the base of Eden's tree?" Dark Pit said tentatively. "The river . . . the black stuff?"

"Yes," said Viridi as if the single words was hard to get out. "The cracks of the ground had them, the trees roots, and every body of water nearby had them too. As a result, animals are dying, and with nothing to keep them alive, the ecosystem is decaying, and I am at a complete loss."

She shook her head. "Something is rising, something is _emerging_ from the earth. All of these things are happening for a reason, I can feel it. This is big-this is more powerful than I've ever felt before. I mean, I've always known when a tornado was about to pass, or an earthquake, but this-this tops it all."

"What do you want me to do?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Palutena is hiding something, that's obvious," Viridi said, annoyed, "and I don't know what Pit's prophecy or his connection with being the 'Winged One' has anything to do with it, but it's worth finding out. You need to get all the information from her as you can-anything at all, even information that may not be relevant. This disturbance in the earth may have nothing to do with Pit's prophecy at all-for all I know, you might need to dig up more about Palutena's past to find out how it pretains to the topic at hand."

"What about the One Who Will Turn the Earth?" asked Dark Pit. "Could that have anything to do with it?"

"I completely forgot about that," said Viridi, her eyes bright and eager. "Pit-'The Winged One'-he has to defeat the One Who Will Turn the Earth, doesn't he?"

Dark Pit nodded.

"Then it's all connected," muttered Viridi, a finger to her chin. She looked up to him. "Anything that you figure out, contact me. Look through Cupid's history books-I'm sure he has a library in here somewhere."

"Why are you asking me to do this?" Dark Pit asked suspiciously. "Pit-"

"Pit's too close to his goddess to try and be sneaky with her," said Viridi passively. "He'd fail in trying to do this for me."

"So you want me to stay here, with Pit, and 'hang out' while the Overworld is going to shit?"

"It's not like I have any other choice!" she fired, founding on him. "Phosphora and Cragalanche are down there doing the best they can, but-it keeps on getting worse! Anything you do would just put you in more danger. If you died, I wouldn't be able to get any information here!"

"Okay, okay!" said Dark Pit, putting his hands up.

Viridi gave a frustrated, drawn out sigh. "I could really use your help. Up here."

Dark Pit quirked up an eyebrow. "You? Need me?"

"Yes," gritted Viridi. "Here. If anyone asks-Cupid, specifically-just tell them that you'd like to stay with Pit as he gets better-"

"Or I could just say that I really wanted to get away from you from driving me up the wall for a few days," said Dark Pit.

"Sure, sure, whatever," said Viridi, waving her hand at him passively.

"Or I could say that you just really don't want to see me get hurt down there at the Overworld," said Dark Pit, casting her a knowing glance.

Viridi looked at him in bewilderment. "You and Feather-Brain both. . ." she growled in suppressed amazement. Then she just shook her head. "Say what you want. I don't care. Just don't tell them the real reason why you're up here, alright?"

"Alright, alright," said Dark Pit, a small smile perched on his lips, wondering at what it felt like to finally be trusted by a goddess.

 **XxX**

Palutena's expression was soured as she glowered at Cupid. He put a hand on his chest, affronted.

"Dearest Palutena, do you think I'm plotting something?"

"If you weren't planning on doing something while I'm here with Pit, then that would be highly uncharacteristic of you," Palutena said, her voice low and dangerous. "Everything just makes too much sense. Pit getting struck by lightning, he and I staying here in the end-"

"I could just be lonely, you know," said Cupid, a small frown on his face. "It's an affliction that the gods have to deal with all too often."

"I don't _trust_ you, Cupid," Palutena said. "I never have."

"Not even when I was a young little thing?" asked Cupid. "So cute and innocent, practically a heaven-sent chosen by the Spirits themselves . . ."

"The Spirits got it wrong," said Palutena. "You are anything but a heaven-sent."

"You _wound_ me," said Cupid, a hand over his heart and his eyes to the ceiling. Then he looked back down with a coy smile on his face. "Besides, you _can't_ be implying that the all-powerful Spirits got it wrong, can you?"

"The Spirits are anything but all-powerful," said Palutena. "They don't know everything, and they only obtain power from possessing their appointed user." She sighed then. "Giving you wings and proclaiming you 'The Winged One' was an enormous mistake." Palutena looked at him with a jarring glare before he could say another word. "You obviously want something out of this situation-you couldn't possibly be taking care of me and my angel for free."

"You've caught me," said Cupid, hands out in surrender. "I could never be as generous as you say. But what else could you give me? You're already making me arrows . . ."

"You like to control people," said Palutena. "And you like making things easier for yourself. You brought us both here for a reason," said Palutena, sitting up in her bed. With an irritated flinch, she brought her hand to her head.

Cupid poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. She glared at him as if he were offering her a glass full of poison, but she took it nonetheless. "It's almost as if you're keeping us here against our will."

"Don't think of it like that!" cried Cupid in faux despair. "Though," he said in quite a different tone altogether, "how can I possibly be lonely with Dio and the girls keeping me company? You may find my presence here quite illuminating, actually. . . perhaps a little goad to push things forward with you and your precious angel . . . "

"You want me to spill about the Prophecy," said Palutena, disappointed at herself at not seeing the obvious. Of course he would want to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible residing at his Palace.

Cupid gave a simpering sort of smile and looked down at his hands. He moved over to her on the edge of the bed, settling quite smoothly on its feather mattress. "Here's the thing, Palutena," he began. "For now, Madame Viridi thinks you're here of your own volition. You just found out that that's not the case. But I don't want to see you leave before coming clean about 'The Winged One' and his part in the End of the World. So, you can't tell Madame Viridi about the words we've traded here, you see?"

"Oh, I won't tell her about _Pit_ being 'The Winged One'-"

"Oh, and you can't tell her about me and the Prophecy either," Cupid said quickly.

"And why not?" she said, infuriated.

"Because you may be here against your will, but I really _do_ have all the materials you need to get better," Cupid said. "You can tell her, but then your chances of surviving this disease will decrease drastically. I may deny you the very things you need to keep you alive. . ."

Palutena narrowed her gaze.

Cupid brightened. "Right. Now that we understand each other, here are my conditions. You tell Pit everything about the Prophecy and about his past-but nothing about how the Spirits ordained me to carry its burden first. You don't tell anyone about how you're being kept here, and I'll make every effort to make sure you and your angel recover."

Palutena, her arms crossed, gave a barely identifiable 'fine' underneath her breath.

"Fantastic!" Cupid said, clapping his hands together. He put a hand on her shoulder in a mock gesture of comfort. "You and Pit will be catered to hand and foot, so you won't have to worry about a thing!"

"Lady Palutena!" Pit said, footsteps pounding on the stairs before Palutena's sick room. He turned the doorknob from the outside and peeked from behind the slightly ajar door, looking from his goddess to the God of Love sitting next to her. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Pit," said Palutena, neglecting to mention her growing headache that probably had something to do with Cupid's lingering presence. She gave a slight smile, though in her head she cursed the older angel for being so distressingly crafty. He must have heard Pit from down below, steering the topic of conversation away from his mulled threats. "Shouldn't you be laying down?"

"Ah, not exactly," said Pit sheepishly, coming in a little more into the room. It seemed as if he held something behind his back.

"She's right," said Cupid, standing up to steer the angel back outside. "Running through corridors and bouncing up stairs definitely isn't the road to recovery after being struck by lightning, Pit."

"But-I brought you something!" said Pit, shrugging out of Cupid's grasp to hold something out to her. It was a wreath, much like the one atop he and Dark Pit's heads, only where as theirs were strewn with laurel leaves, this one was decorated with small white and pink flowers. "Viridi showed me how to make it . . ."

Palutena wanted to tear up and cry. How could such a simple act of kindness stir her to the brink of such a strong emotion? Perhaps it effected her more in the face of the older angel's conversation.

"Pit, that's so kind," she said, waving the angel over. Pit did and handed the gift over to her, the goddess inspecting it with great care and reverence.

"I know it's not the best, but Viridi said I'll get better with practice," said Pit. "I just figured since-you know, since Cupid said we shouldn't be out all that much, you would miss the plants and flowers from being outside. I got the idea and Viridi showed me how to do one before she left! She won't be back for a few days, though. Trouble down on the Overworld that she's got to take care of, from what she told me. But Dark Pit's staying, did I mention that already? I made him sit with me and make one - he was so mad! After he made himself one I told him that I would never let him hear the end of it! He made me swear that I wouldn't tell another soul. But you don't really count, do you, Lady Palutena? I mean, I tell you everything, and you wouldn't try to embarrass him or anything like that . . ."

"No, of course not," she said, her blue eyes bright and mischievous. Pit's energy was infectious, and she played along to the best of her ability.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. But can you imagine it? Dark Pit sitting on the ground outside, making leis out of flowers? But I think he enjoyed doing it." Pit pointed to the one she held in her hand. "It's already coming apart at the edges-see?-but it _should_ hold up for a couple of days at the least, that is, if you decide to wear it-"

The said lei was already on the goddess' head. She smiled at Pit in appreciation. "It's perfect," she said.

Pit beamed.

Cupid, who was watching all of this with a confused expression on his face, snapped himself back to attention. "She's gone, then?" he blurted.

"Who, Viridi? Yeah," Pit replied, adjusting the flower crown on Palutena's head.

"Mm, that's a relief," he said, going to the front of the room to grab his quill and scrolls from where he left them on a forgotten table stand. He tried to look busy, scribbling down information collected from Palutena's illness, but really he just wanted to appear busy enough to shuffle a certain intruding angel from out the room. "Now Pit, do you mind? I understand the overpowering need to be around the one who raised and reared you, but I can't say that now's the appropriate time."

"Oh, right," Pit said, turning around to see a distantly annoyed Cupid. "Sorry!" he said, coming up to stand.

Cupid smiled at him endearingly. "Now, last time I checked, Dio should have some refreshments available for you two to enjoy downstairs. That should tide you over until dinnertime, right?"

"Right," said Pit, completely oblivious to what Cupid was trying to do. It was at that moment when his stomach gave a rather loud rumble made audible to everyone in the room. He clutched at his midsection, looking up with mild embarrassment. "I didn't realize how hungry I was until now . . ."

"That's fine," said Cupid, and caught up the tail end of his exit of his room.

"Cupid, one second, if you will?"

Cupid paused, and as a result, Pit paused as well. He knew he wasn't the one who Palutena had called for, but what was the harm in listening in as well.

Already, halfway into the Hallway, he didn't see Palutena's expression as she shared the last few words with her former charge. But he heard the warning in it just as clear.

"Don't get carried away."

And Cupid replied lightly, "What do you take me for, Palutena? I'm only here to help."

And at that, Cupid settled a hand on Pit's shoulder, goading him to descend the rest of the stairs.

 **XxX**

Dark Pit was already halfway through the platter of cookies and the pitcher of milk by the time Pit made it down to the Palace's Small Dining Hall. Pit took one and began to eat one slowly. Dark Pit looked up at his twin's lack of gusto and paused his rampage of the batch of cookies. After all, chocolate chip was the lighter angel's favorite. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.

"Pit-Stain . . .?" he asked cautiously.

"What do you think Palutena meant that she told Cupid 'not to get carried away'?"

Dark Pit rolled his eyes. "I literally have no idea what you're talking about."

"You weren't there," Pit said like an afterthought. "But I went upstairs to give Palutena her flower-crown, and Palutena told Cupid . . . not to get carried away. What do you think she meant by that?"

Dark Pit wiped off what he assumed would be the remnants of a milk mustache and positioned himself on the stool enough so that he was facing Pit. "Well, what was the context? asked Dark Pit.

"There wasn't any," said Pit. "Cupid and I were on our way to give Palutena some rest, and Palutena stopped him on the way out to tell him not to get carried away. She seemed . . . " Pit shook his head. "She seemed like she didn't trust Cupid for some reason. Which, I don't either, but every time I encounter him I keep on finding more and more reasons not to."

Dark Pit could think of several things that Pit would need to look out for while in the older angel's presence, but he decided he didn't want to despoil the other's innocence just yet. "A lot of the time I feel as though Cupid's all talk and no action," said Dark Pit, "which should be a good thing. But just in case . . . I would be wary, Pit. I can't say that I trust or even like the guy all that much myself. Luckily," he said, a sly smile on his lips, "Viridi let me pick out a few choice weapons from the Hanging Garden's Weapon's Altar. Now I can rest in peace with a pair of Stealth Claw right underneath my pillow."

"Aw, man! All I've got is my Blade!" Pit bemoaned, his mouth full of cookie. He swallowed. "It's Palutena's Blade, but still . . ."

Dark Pit shrugged. "Since Cupid doesn't have an Altar himself, maybe I can ask Viridi if she would send Phosphora down to drop off some arms."

Pit nodded. "That would help."

"He seems to take a special interest in you, and it's uncanny at best." Dark Pit shifted closer, and Pit thought at first he was going to give him a hug. Instead he just stole the last cookie from the platter. Pit cried out in dismay, but the dark angel was relentless. He plopped the entire cookie into his mouth, looking like some kind of smug squirrel at the end of it all.

"You know, I just got struck by lightning," Pit said, injured. "I deserved that cookie."

"You'll get no sympathy from me," said Dark Pit, voice still slightly muffled. "You were just slow, talking about all your _problems."_

Pit darted for the pitcher of milk next to him, and before Dark Pit knew what was happening, he was soaked. Pit shoved the empty pitcher into Dark Pit's arms quickly before the other angel could return to his senses. At last, spluttering and indignant, Dark Pit wrenched up from his seat to throttle his brother.

But Pit was already half-way out the room.

 **XxX**

 **A/N: AHHHH SHORT CHAPTER!**

 **This was going to be a part of another chapter where I finally introduced Dio. But . . . that didn't happen. I didn't feel like posting another 7,000+ word chapter again, and I didn't think that readers would be too eager in reading that long of a chapter as well. Saying that to say . . . this section has a lot of good material in it, and I hope you guys are enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it. I'm going at a slower pace, lingering specifically on character interaction and backstory, shedding light on what each character knows about what . . .**

 **I'll make it a goal to post on Thursday. Maybe before then, but Thursday at the latest.**

 **Please review!**


	17. Greater Than Gods

**" _Where you pinheads see adversity, I see opportunity!"_ -Hades, in The Aurrum Hive Arc**

 **XxX**

Dark Pit darted awake, tossing the covers form his body at once. It had barely been an hour since he had finally drifted off to sleep, and so he was practically awake when his bare feet settled on the guest bedroom floor and stepped lightly to the door. He turned the knob, as quietly as he could—it barely made a noise as it slid across the hardwood floor. He made move to step into the massive hallway—then turned quickly back into the bedroom, to grab the weapon he had come with – the Bowl Arm. Then he shut the door behind him quietly, and darted into the shadows of the corridor, silent as a ghost.

He had been at Cupid's Palace three times now—but the place was more unfamiliar now that it was dark. He trusted his instincts, though, and soon he came to the part of Palace that seemed to be the girl's dormitories, clear on the other side.

It must have been the first door on the left. Turning with his left hand, feeling the untumbled lock slide back as he did, he pushed the door open tentatively.

At first he thought that the light was on, but then realized just as quick that the light that was in his face wasn't from a candle, but from the moon. Apparently, Cupid's servants liked to sleep with the curtain open to the world outside. There was a garden, Dark Pit could see from the almost-full moon's light; the one that he had gotten lost in when he had come the second time. He scowled.

Something that also surprised him; the girls all slept together in one room. Though it was a pretty big room—it was a suite, no doubt, with beds in one half of the room and a dressing room in the other part—it was weird seeing them all together like this, especially since he and Pit had been treated with their own rooms.

Dark Pit paced to the bed of the nearest one. It happened to be Teegan. He tugged at her arm roughly. When her blue eyes fluttered awake, he clamped one hand over her mouth, and shook his head, motioning her to be quiet and to follow him. Obviously afraid, Teegan nodded and followed him out into the corridor, few steps away from the room she shared with her friends.

"What do you want?" Teegan said, her whispering voice high pitched with fear.

Dark Pit, his Bowl Arm leveled at her chest, was then hit with how terribly wrong he was going about this. Who was he- coming in with a weapon to these girls' own bedrooms? He was a guest here. And this was rude, even by his standards. He lowered the weapon slowly. "Sorry," he whispered. "I—didn't know where Cupid would be sleeping, and I—was worried."

"About what?" Teegan said. She didn't seem as scared now, noticing a bit of the insecurity that crept its way on the angel's face.

"Um—Pit. I was wondering if—anyone had given him any medicine—you know, before he went to bed. Because, you know, the lightning thing—and he had to have been in a hospital bed or something like that before I came here, right? And I figured—well, someone should be watching over him, and – the medicine."

Teegan's face then softened. She explained gently how Pit was well enough to sleep away from the Hospital Wing for now. All he needed now was rest. She'd give him some medicine in the morning, when he was good to stay on his feet.

"But I wouldn't worry," she told him, a knowing smile on her face. "He's going to be fine after this. A few second-degree burns and the lasting effects of the overall wound just takes some time to heal. The next few days he'll be slow, drained, but that's only because he's trying to recover."

"I know that," Dark Pit snapped ruthlessly, the typical response of someone who doesn't like to be talked down to, in any circumstance. Of course, his sour tone fell on deaf ears, and she merrily smiled back, before returning to her own bed and closing the door behind her.

Later in the night, when Dark Pit had returned to his own dormitories, Pit had woken up in complete and screaming pain. Dark Pit rushed to his room, staying up until he had brought back Teegan to administer to Pit's injuries. Apparently, Pit _couldn't_ wait for his medicine until morning, and Teegan had been subject to Dark Pit's wrath for her mistake. Dark Pit remained in Pit's room for the rest of the night once she had given him the proper potions, making sure he was alright, at his side in case he slipped into pain again. Six hours later, Dark Pit woke up from the floor in a puddle of drool; looking over, he found that Pit was sleeping soundly, and was satisfied. Pit was always awake before he usually was, and his sleeping in told him that he was finally getting the rest he needed after his unusually long night.

Dark Pit let himself take a break then, amusing himself by exploring the many halls and rooms of Cupid's castle. Viridi had left his mind close to the time when he had collapsed into bed after yesterday's final events. She hadn't come back, and so Dark Pit guessed that he was on his own for a while. There were hot springs, and a banquet hall (whatever that was) and dozens of fountains. There were dining halls (which looked pretty similar to the banquet hall), ballrooms and the Alchemy Room, but when Dark Pit tried to open its door, it was securely locked.

A couple hours later—it was a big palace—he traced his steps back the way he came, but this time taking a different hallway. Its floors a gilded gold and the lighting a soft yellow, it possessed a very welcoming atmosphere, like a place that was used to housing many guests. Approaching he and Pit's hall again, he noticed something slumped on the floor that hadn't been there before—a pile of clothes, sagging against the wall. Coming closer, he began to realize that it wasn't a something but actually a some _one;_ head slumped on his chest, the man was snoring faintly. His robes and tunic were a vivid purple color, trimmed with gold and red. The man had a bit of black stubble along his cheeks, and a dribble of drool hung from his chin. In his hand, resting loosely, was an empty wine bottle.

Dark Pit looked at the man and shouted the first thing that entered his mind. "HEY PIT-STAIN! I FOUND A HOBO OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM!"

The man's snores came to a halt, and he blinked at the angel in front of him. A budding smile made its way onto the man's round face, making him look younger that Dark Pit had first expected. With curly back hair and bright purple eyes on his face he gave off a permanently boyish look, but it remained in stark contrast with the redness around the whites of his eyes. Dark Pit estimated that he was in his late twenties, though it was hard to tell with his facial contradictions.

The man sprang up. "My angel!" he exclaimed. "Relatives of Cupid, I presume?"

The man had an accent—somewhere between Spanish and Italian. Dark Pit shook his head. "No, not relatives," he said. "Just visiting."

"Oh, but all the more to celebrate!" The man sprang up, grabbed Dark Pit's face, and kissed him on both cheeks. "Ah! My goodness, it has been a while since we had company here!"

A knob to the left of the purple robed-man—Dark Pit was starting wonder whether he was still a little tipsy—turned and its door swung open. Bleary eyed and still not awake, Pit shuffled out of his room.

Instantly Dark Pit was sorry he had ever woken him. He thought that he had never seen his twin look so tired; with his hair rumbled and still wearing the clothes from yesterday, he looked as if he had slept deeply but not fitfully.

Pit blinked at Dark Pit, and then at the man who stood—with difficulty—next to him. "Dark Pit?" he said thickly, rubbing at his eyes in a way that made him look much more vulnerable than Dark Pit knew him to be. "Who's this?"

Dark Pit just realized he hadn't even introduced himself. "Pit, this is – um . . ."

"Dionysus, here to make your acquaintance." The drunk moved forward to kiss Pit on both cheeks like he had him. He was taller than Cupid, Dark Pit reflected, though not as tall as Palutena. Dionysus stepped back, looking at him rather tenderly. "Signore Cupid calls me Dio, and so you can call me that too!"

"Name's Pit," the lighter angel said, still not awake. "That's Dark Pit."

"Twins?" Dio guessed, inspecting them both eagerly. He put a hand to his chin playfully. Suddenly his eyes lightened up. "Ah! I see it now!"

"We're exact copies," Dark Pit muttered, rolling his eyes. "No need to check for differences. I was made from the Mirror of Truth, right when Pit broke the damn thing."

"Well, that's not true," Dio speculated. "Your voice is deeper, and your hair is black, while his is brown."

Dark Pit threw up his hands in exasperation. Pit just yawned.

"And your eyes, they are different as well." Dio peered deeply into Dark Pit's eyes for a long moment, invading his personal space. His breath reeked of something like sour wine and bad cheese. "Yours are purple-gold, an interesting color. His are sky-blue." He stepped away before Dark Pit could take a jab to his face. "So, you see! You are not exact copies!"

"Yeah, okay," Dark Pit said. He was getting a vibe off this guy; though good or bad, he couldn't really tell. It was the same feeling he had gotten when he had met Jana the first time; having a deeper knowing that though she wasn't quite god, she was still a powerful being. "What are you?" Dark Pit asked straight out. "A god? Or a lesser entity?"

"Oh, no need for formalities," Dio said, blushing some. "I am officially the God of Wine. Though the humans of the Overworld have called me the God of Great Parties from time to time too, and also commend me on my delicious party favors while declaring me the God of Feasts." He paused suddenly, beaming with pleasure. Though he was a mess of tangled hair and robes, his teeth were straight and nice and white, and his grin lit up his whole face. "Come with me! I am supposed to make you breakfast!"

Dark Pit supposed that explained him being passed out in front of Pit's door. As he followed the man through the hallway he just came from, Dark Pit said, "So how come you're here? Do you work for Cupid, or something like that?"

"Something like that, yes," Dio said, a bit timid. "Cupid lets me stay here, because I do not have anywhere else to go. I make him his meals, and he gives me a place to stay. It is a nice arrangement, since Don Cupid is a very powerful god and has much room to stay at in his palace." He cut off abruptly, and the rest of the walk to the kitchen was made in uncomfortably placed silence.

"So you're the ghost that's been coming here making our meals," said Dark Pit, arms folded across his chest.

"Ah, yes, that is me." Dio cast a nervous hand to his shoulder before going back to work. In any other circumstance, he didn't think Dio would be so shy. The man seemed to be limited, somehow-and it probably had something to do with Cupid.

Pit slumped in a stool at the far end of the room, his head going back as if he were dead. Dio divested himself in his work, busying himself with taking ingredients from the cupboards and vegetables from a large basket from one of the center counters. Soon Dio was completely occupied, lighting a fire with the snap of one of his fingers. He turned around suddenly. "Do not tell Signore Cupid I did that," he whispered covertly. "He does not like me using magic around the palace."

"Why not?" Dark Pit asked.

"Ah—just because of an incident some years ago when I was drunk and accidentally set fire to the whole East Wing. But it was years ago!" Dio repeated at Dark Pit's apparent unease. "I won't let it happen again!"

"But aren't you a god?" Dark Pit said, coming to sit on one of the other stools near where Pit dozed.

"Yes, but my power comes from the elements." Dio got out a jar of oil, uncapped it, and poured a small estimated amount on the frying pan that lay before him. "And the elements I control do not range over fire. My power only resides in the plantlife, of the knowing and the growing of natural things. So I learned magic, to make my cooking easier."

"Still, if it makes your cooking easier, you shouldn't let Cupid have a say in what you should or shouldn't be able to learn," Dark Pit said, coming up to lean against one the counters where Dio was beginning to work. "You're a god. Can't you do whatever you want?"

"That is not true, no." Across the room, Pit began to stir at the sweet sound of the crackle of bacon. The scent began to fill the whole room soon enough; the creases in the bacon made with each sharp _crack_ was enough to make Dark Pit's mouth water. "Though there are no official rules in place, there are certain gods who hold authority over each other. Don Cupid being my _superiore,_ ordained to watch over me while I continue with my training." He smiled sheepishly, looking to Dark Pit over the heat of the fire. "I am a very young god, to be honest, and not a very good one."

"Who decides whether or not you're old enough to be independent?" Dark Pit questioned him as Dio went on to peel potatoes with a small kitchen knife.

"Signore Zeus, among some of his other council members. They do not meet all that often. The last time I saw Signore Zeus was when he made me a god . . ."Dio suddenly paused, all of his potatoes peeled and turned to smile at him. "Cooking interests you, _no?_ "

Dark Pit couldn't say it was that. Dio went back to his work, slicing through potatoes with smooth and succinct movements, the sound quick and sure like a snipping pair of scissors. When the root was done, Dio grabbed a freshly rinsed branch fitted with many small, dark leaves—cilantro, Dark Pit recalled—from the middle of the table. Dio worked at the cilantro with minute gestures, the leaves coming out small like ground seasoning itself.

Dark Pit was sure that the only reason he was so mesmerized by Dio's work was because of the accurate proficiency he seemed to accomplish it. His hands moved in quick, sure gestures as he proceeded to chop some mushrooms. Dark Pit was so engrossed in his task that Dio's sudden departure from the chopping board to the burning pit behind him. He picked out a plate from the shelf at hand length, reaching into the now-done frying pan of bacon with a fork to dispose on the awaiting plate. Without pause, Dio dumped his neatly-sliced potatoes into the frying pan, the grease from the bacon making ample enough oil to cook with the potatoes. When he was through, Dio stole an egg from a large bowl from the other side of the counter while Pit stole a piece of bacon from the plate Dio had laid out. Dio cracked it once and let its contents gush out into an awaiting bowl before reaching for another one.

"Would you like to help?"

Dark Pit blinked. The idea had never occurred to him, but it seemed a lot better than just standing around doing nothing. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Take these shells and crush them in a bowl." Already Dio had finished with cracking the eggs, whisking them neatly together with a three-pronged fork. Dark Pit did as he asked, brushing the eggshells into cupped fingers, admiring the competent way Dio handled himself in his work. Dio turned his attention to the potatoes again, sprinkling some pre-ground pepper onto his work.

"Sprinkle them on some of the plants I have beside the stool—" Dio pointed, his back to him, and next to Pit he saw miniature tree, its leaves firm and long with turgor pressure. Dark Pit deposited an estimated amount of the cracked egg shell onto plant's soil, and proceeded to do the same with the other similar growing plants throughout the kitchen.

"The shells provide a natural fertilizer to the soil—"

"I know," Dark Pit said, who had been living with Viridi for almost seven months.

"—one that is much more organic than adding magic to make it grow strong," Dio finished, unhampered by Dark Pit's interruption. Dio turned and smiled at him. "Crumble the bacon, if it is not too hot."

Dark Pit fingered the bacon in his hand, the cooking oil not too hot for him to take it, a little confused as to why he was crumbling such perfectly good bacon. Yet Dark Pit did as he was told, his mind completely engrossed in his work. When Dark Pit had finished, he idled enough to watch Dio at his work again—the god, the eggs whipped and the vegetables chopped, was now walking towards the chopping block with a flank of ham in netted wrapping.

"Sorry to surprise you," Dark Pit said, in a rather non-apologetic tone, "but this Zeus guy is dead."

Dio paused in his work, and turned to look at Dark Pit with an odd look on his face. He seemed disappointed in Dark Pit's bluntness, which put the angel at some sort of unease.

Then Dio's face creased into a somewhat sad smile. "I know," he stated simply, and went back to his work.

Dio set the ham on the counter, untangled the wrapping, and grabbed a another bowl into which he brushed the chopped vegetables. Dio glanced over to Dark Pit, who was standing there wishing he had something to do.

"Would you be so kind as to hand be another frying pan, señor _?"_

Dark Pit went to the other side of the room where a pile of unused frying pans were waiting for him. "You don't have to call me that," he said as he handed him a medium sized one.

"Oh, but I do." Dio snapped another flame into existence, the fire pit ablaze and ready. "Angels can be greater than gods; you may learn that soon enough. Would you mind stirring the potatoes? I believe there is a spatula hanging over there, somewhere."

Dark Pit found it, proceeding to stir. The potatoes looked half finished, and they smelled heavenly with the bacon grease. "Do you say that because of Cupid?"

Dio's voice didn't waiver when he answered. The room was suddenly filled with the smooth sound of knife sliding against wood as Dio made his way through the thick flank of the pig. "No. I say that because it is true." He turned to him. Dark Pit had gone to lean against the counter again. "Mind the potatoes, would you please?"

"Cupid is a worm," Dark Pit said idly, returning to them. "You don't have to say nice things about him just because you work for him." He wished he could do more than just wait by the fire pit and stir.

"No, señor _;_ do not say that!" Dio exclaimed. He was sizzling more bacon, Dark Pit saw, and the god's eyes were pleading. "Don Cupid is the most gracious god I have ever met—do not ever think any differently!"

Dark Pit blinked. He did not know what to make out of this; both Dio's and Pit-Stain's steadfast dedication to deities who did not deserve their adamant service. "Fine," he said, never wasting a chance to get the final word. "I won't talk about him like that anymore." But he was really just confused.

Dio popped over to Dark Pit's station a few minutes later, and announced that the potatoes were finished. Dark Pit got a look to see what Dio had been doing all this time, and was surprised to find that Dio had gotten a lot more accomplished than Dark Pit would have imagined; On two medium sized plates, sat two omelets, each filed with mushroom and cilantro and chopped up pieces of salted ham and greasy bacon. With that, and the potatoes on the side, Dark Pit's mouth practically watered.

Dio gave the two plates to Dark Pit. Turning to his station once more, he sprinkled some shredded cheddar cheese ( _wait, when had he shredded that?_ ) on the two steaming hot dishes.

"They aren't both for you," Dio told him, a slight smile on his face.

"I know," Dark Pit snapped, but when he turned to give a plate to Pit, he found that he was probably hungry enough to eat them both. Dark Pit hesitated. No, Pit would probably be just as hungry as he was. He had better give him his own plate . . . but before he could give him his food, he found the angel had left. Dark Pit was sure he would have heard him if he had gotten up to leave . . .

Dark Pit whipped around at the sound of laughter coming from the small dining room right next door up the stairs from the kitchen. He arrived, knowing even before entering that the tinkling laughter had sounded horribly familiar . . . Pit was surrounded, twisting and giggling on the floor, at the mercy of two of Cupid's servants as they teamed together to tickle him. Nikki and Ella crowded around him, stealing his golden laurel wreath from the top of his head. Pit reached for the laurel, but his efforts were brought down when the Asian red-head attacked him with ticklish fury. Pit was on the floor, half laughing, half crying, as the two girls continued tickling.

"Hey! Get off of him!" Dark Pit moved towards them—remembered his plates—turned to set them on the small table—and then proceeded to help Pit. Pit was crouched in a ball, his knees drawn up to shield his stomach from the plague of their fingers. Dark Pit grabbed the back of his tunic, pulling him away from their fingers, but they were too tricky. Ella stole his laurel crown, distracting him terribly, and Dark Pit fell for it. Dark Pit reached up, leaving his midsection bare, and Nikki went for it ruthlessly, attacking him with tickles, and before long, Dark Pit became just as twitchy and desperate just as Pit was.

Dio walked into the room, taking a bite of the breakfast he had just had time to prepare for himself. Forking a mouthful of egg into his mouth, Dio was astounded at the sight within the next room; Pit, laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes, crouched into a ball and wrested intermittently by spasms of laughter; and Dark Pit, eyes wide with determination, reaching for the laurel crown held so tantalizingly by the same girls who sought to tickle him silly.

"Mios Dios," Dio said, his mouth half-full of food. They didn't see him in the doorway though, and he figured that he had better break them up. His eyes strayed to the two plates that sat on the table; their food would be getting cold. But . . . they looked like they were enjoying themselves. The darker one wouldn't see it that way, he didn't think. But the interaction would be good for him nonetheless.

Swallowing his bite of food, he drifted from the doorway. Maybe he should find Cupid, he thought. He'd know what to do.

Dio realized he hadn't seen the god all day. The morning was drawing close to noon, and his servants seemed to have a free agenda. Lucky for them.

It made him wonder, though. Did that mean that Cupid was deeply involved with something else? He tried to recall what Cupid had told him, a few days past, about the two angel boys that would be coming to visit. . . but the memory was lost for the time being. He had drunk so much last night . . .

Dio sighed, setting his plate down on the counter of the kitchen. He figured, if anything, that the god would be in his study, or in the Alchemy Room. . . Taking the stairs up from the kitchen, he found himself taking the way down Cupid's apartments. He paused, lifting one hand to knock on his door . . . then hesitated. Is this what he wanted? He must ask that question of himself every day, but still he could not give himself an answer. Cupid was behind that door—he could hear him, putting materials away and shuffling about the room. But did that really mean that he wanted to have him here? There was want, and there was need —and Dionysus couldn't really tell which one was which when he was with him. Did he like Cupid's company? Did he need Cupid at all? He had never been in the position to ever answer that question for himself.

Dionysus didn't think he ever wanted to ever be in that position.

The door opened slowly.

It was clear that Cupid had been distracted with something from within there—his eyes were trained on the ground, oblivious to Dio's form just feet from him, lost in thought. When he closed the door though, and looked up, Cupid was subtly surprised at him standing there. Dionysus looked a bit like a lost puppy.

"Dio, what's wrong?"

Dio blinked, once, twice, feeling his resolve break within him. He blubbered hopelessly, "My apologies, Signore _._ I hope I was not distracting you from anything important."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cupid said tenderly, coming closer to him. He put his hands on his shoulders. "What's on your mind?"

Dio drew a shaky breath, not knowing how to go about this. "I seem to be a bit . . . lost, Signore _._ I am unsure about how to handle the presence of the angel boys. Would you be so kind . . . to explain why they are here _?"_

"But, of course." Cupid said, looking at Dio worriedly. Dio could not meet his eyes. That wasn't the real reason he felt so lost, but he didn't quite have the strength to tell him otherwise. "They're the same angels who had come to me asking about the potions. You remember that, don't you? They serve Palutena and Viridi, just like how my girls serve me."

"I remember now, yes." Dio had nothing else to say.

"The lighter one, Pit, had been struck by lightning. Palutena had been incapacitated, unable to help him. I took them both in my care, for healing, in the way I do."

"With your potions?"

"Yes, with my potions." Cupid gave him a small, sort of sympathetic smile. "Dark Pit followed after his brother, to make sure he was okay."

"He is . . . very loyal," Dio said dully. He felt like crying, and he didn't even know why.

"Yes, he is."

"I've met them, Signore _."_ Dio said suddenly. _"_ The darker one, he was already awake when he found me. We both woke up Pit, and I made breakfast for them both."

"Thank you so much, Dio," Cupid said, his eyes glittering with appreciation. "I admit, I've been rather busy with my experiments . . . Palutena hasn't been doing so well, and I've been trying to figure out a way to cure her from her illness. The thing is, it is an illness that was present before I was even born."

"Before you were born?"

"Yes. And it only attacks one type of species—the race of gods."

Dio felt sick to his stomach. That sounded terrible. He couldn't imagine being a god and facing such an uncertain, early death such as that.

"But you've helped me so much," Cupid said, one hand moving to rest on the side of his face. "Being the host I could not be."

"I . . . I try, Signore _."_

And then Cupid kissed him. Dio let him. Being what Cupid wanted, at his beck and call no matter what he wanted . . . eventually the lines just blurred.

But at that moment, with Cupid's lips on his and his long, steady fingers at the edge of his stubble-rough chin, Dio wondered about his own happiness.

 _Was_ he happy here?

It seemed like he'd been so used to being what Cupid wanted that his question didn't connect into something that could be answered.

In fact, the thought only confused him even more.

 **XxX**

 **A/N: Sorry. I might have been hungry in writing this chapter.**

 **Not the chapter you might have been expecting, but I've been taking things slow anyway. Also, I'll be on a short hiatus for about 1-2 weeks . . . which isn't promising for finishing the story by this summer, I know.**

 **But the plot is still up and moving, I promise! The Winged One! The One Who Will Turn the Earth! Wind Spirits! And unnatural phenomena down on the Overworld!**

 **I haven't forgotten!**

 **I've even got** **a sequel planned here for you guys.**

 **What? A sequel?**

 **Why yes! It's one of the reasons why I've been introducing OCs left and right. In the sequel, there will be lots and lots of action, as well as lots and lots of partying.**

 **Yes, partying. And since partying includes alcohol, naturally some gods will be getting drunk. And perhaps and angel or two . . .**

 **Anyway, thanks for all of my readers/reviewers/followers so far! You guys are amazing!**


	18. Some Kind of Vacation

" _ **Seriously, that is the last time I ever want to hear 'Pittoo'!"—**_ **Dark Pit, in some chapter.**

 **XxX**

The next couple of days sort of felt like a vacation—save a few minor details. Pretty much the only things that kept Pit preoccupied was the gash in his back from his recent weather attack, and Palutena's worsening condition.

So, not a vacation in the strictest sense, but there wasn't anything pressing as of late. And after everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks, it was a bit of a relief.

It was, for lack of a better description, what Dio called their time of "healing". Palutena was being closely watched by Cupid to see what the Mark's effects were on her body. Once the symptoms were isolated, they would be able to treat them, Cupid told Pit. It was hard to say with them now, because they seemed so minor and sudden—the headaches, now migraines, along with her infrequent loss of memory. And though she took draughts for each of these, she only seemed to be getting worse—and had developed a new symptom—she now had a terrible fever. Cupid here found reason to believe to change his first assumption on the Chaos Mark just something that just attacked the head and one's divine ability. With Lady Palutena barely able to get out of bed, he now thought that the Mark actually attacked the whole body—a very chilling thought.

And another note- Dark Pit was still there. Apparently Viridi had been gracious enough to give the angel some space. Dark Pit seemed to be more than happy about this. It was the first time in months that he has had any sort of "holiday". Pit considered this a few days of healing for Dark Pit too. He could tell he and Viridi's relationship had been getting a little more than just rough around the edges, and it was probably best that they stay away from each other before they began going at each other's throats again with renewed fury.

And, of course, there was him. Pit was not one to sit around and do nothing while he "got better". If anything, it was his positive attitude and bubbly demeanor that got him through things like this, but it was hard to be bubbly when you were confined to a bed more than half the day. Cupid suspected that, even though he was an angel, he would be more liable to get better if he stayed in bed—even though he's basically "half mortal, half-god, and his regenerative abilities are naturally excellent, making him a relatively fast healer."

Despite all of that, though, Pit was advised to sleep at least 16 hours a day—and, if he could not sleep for that long, to stay in bed until his 16 hours were up.

Pit didn't think this was all that bad. He wanted to get better—he wanted to fight for the Overworld and in Palutena's name. And sometimes he would feel when his body needed healing—when he would need a nap in order to allow his body to rejuvenate after such a shock to his body. . . But still . . . Patience is a hard thing to teach to an eager young thing like him.

Without experiencing the luxury of a full on tour, Pit found himself (more than he liked to admit) getting incredibly lost in Cupid's spacious Palace. He was _not_ known for his sense of direction, which was one of the reasons why Palutena always felt the need to give him a few pointers on his adventures in the Overworld—because, no matter how precise she made her directions, he would always find a way to get hopelessly lost.

Going without human contact for hours on end made him feel pretty miserable at times. It always surprised him when he finally made it down to the kitchen to where Dio and Dark Pit would usually be chatting. The palace was a big one-an ENORMOUS waste of space, Dark Pit had said once—though Pit couldn't see what space the god was wasting if everything was located up in the sky.

Committed to make sure this day didn't speed by like the rest in boredom and completely alone, Pit sat up from his bed and watched as Teegan poured his daily dose of medicine from a clay jar into a small cup next to his table.

"Hey—Teegan?"

Teegan turned to him then, her wide blue eyes looking at him in concern. Her brown hair looked lighter in the afternoon light, the rays of sun that shined past the slightly parted curtain of Pit's room making her the picture of youth. She was very pretty, Pit thought beyond his will. Pit avoided talking to her, for much of the same reason he avoided talking to any of Cupid's girls—he did not want to go through what Dark Pit had gone through. With Teegan, especially. "Yes, Pit?"

"Um," Pit said, desperately needing someone to talk to. "Have you—erm—worked for Cupid for long?"

Teegan looked back at him in surprise. "Oh—uhm. Yeah. Since we were young, I would guess."

"Oh. Wow." Pit scratched behind his head, setting the drink down on the nightstand beside him. "And by young, you mean . . ."

"A while ago."

"Right," said Pit, unsure about how to breach the subject.

Teegan had a smile that was as sneaky as her character. "And by that, I mean I looked young, but it must have been years ago. I know I looked young—"

"Hey, I have that same problem too!" Pit said, his eyes lighting up. "I don't remember any of my time back _before_ I was in Palutena's service, but I know I was pretty young—five years old or so, from what she's mentioned to me."

"Oh. That's cool." Teegan didn't look him in the eyes. She looked slightly embarrassed. "Except . . . that's not what I meant at all."

"Oh." Pit didn't remember small talk being quite so hard. "So . . ."

"I meant, when my sisters and I were taken from the Overworld, we were about seven. I know that for a fact," Teegan said. "But since then, it's been years. We've been frozen in time—but whether that's from being up here or—because of something else, we have no clue."

"What do you mean by that?" Pit said, rapt with attention.

"While we were down in the Overworld, Nikki, Ella and I have always known that we were special. Different, I guess. We were drawn to each other, and we shared the same dreams. But that's all. Cupid's been trying to connect the dots—but to no avail." Teegan's face was downcast.

"Weird," Pit said, sitting back in his bed, trying to make sense of it all.

"Yeah."

Pit snuck a glance at her. "So—you're not a god."

Teegan gave him a narrow look. "And?"

Pit put his hands up. "Hey, I was just trying to connect the pieces! I mean, we could've had similar origins . . . except I don't know zip about my past."

"Oh. Yeah," said Teegan, pursing her lips. "And I do, so . . ."

"Hey, don't have to brag about it."

Teegan smiled at him again. "Sorry. Just . . . do you think Cupid would know anything about it? Your past, I mean."

"No. Or I mean, he _might,_ but he's not giving anything away. Why?"

"Because he's watched us from the start," said Teegan, finally setting her tray down. She lingered, taking a spot at the edge of Pit's bed. "My sisters and I, I mean. He's got a pretty good knowledge of any supernatural occurrences going on down on earth. If anyone would know, it would be him."

 _Or Palutena,_ thought Pit. "Yeah, I guess," Pit said, feeling as heavy as he did the day after he got struck by lightning. "Hey—" he said, a new idea rushing to his mind, "Were your parents human?"

Teegan looked at him as if this were the most bizarre question someone could ask. "Yeah. Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because I can't _remember_ mine."

"Oh," said Teegan, looking down. "Right."

Pit suddenly didn't want to talk anymore. He thought he'd try for some alone time before trying to seek out Dark Pit before he missed lunch. He swung himself out of bed, took his medicine, and said abruptly, "I'm going to get up, now. I'll see you later."

He was out of the room before she could even reply.

XxX

" _Señor_ , you can't have a name that is longer than your twin's."

"Oh yeah? And why not?"

Pit turned the corner, breaking out suddenly in a smile. He had found the kitchen, and Dark Pit and Dionysus with it. The former sat in a stool while the latter remained in the cooking area; towel in his hands, he listened intently to Dark Pit.

"Because _I'm_ first," said Pit with a cheeky smile on his face. Dio and Dark Pit turned to him in surprise, Dio at once rising to the occasion.

"Señor Pit! You can help us!" He crossed over to him and led him over to a stool next to Dark Pit. "We're trying to figure out a new name for—"

"Adrian," said Dark Pit, crossing his arms. "It means "dark" in Latin."

"Three syllables," said Pit, shaking his head. "You can't do that, it's not fair."

"Says _you,"_ said Dark Pit, crossing his arms and looking away. "But this is _my_ name we're talking about. You don't have any say in any of this."

Pit wondered what he should say to that. In light of the other one's identity, the two of them had never had much chance to talk. Pit guessed that maybe on this issue, at least, he should give his twin some space. After all, he had been given his previous name without much thought or consideration for if it was right for him.

"The angel . . . has a point," said Dio, throwing his towel at Dark Pit. It hit him right in the face, and he ripped it away with one hand, glaring at the cook with malice. Dio just smiled. "Be _fair!_ It's not like he had any choice in deciding a name for his own either."

"Ha! There, you see!" said Pit, despite himself.

"Oh, so you want me to just stand by and let _you two_ decided my new name for me?" Dark Pit spat, frowning. "I don't think so. If I get to decide what I want for myself, there is no way I'm going to let you two take that opportunity away from me."

"Okay . . ." said Pit, rolling his eyes. "What else have you guys talked about, name wise? Because to be honest, Adrian just sounds like a girl's name."

Dio laughed. "Does not!" Dark Pit said, growing red.

"Trust me, it does," said Pit, reaching over to ruffle his twin's hair. "I've been around on this earth longer than you, remember?"

"Hmm. Well, that's ironic, seeing as I'm a whole lot more _smarter_ than you."

"Just choose a name, lil' bro."

"I am _not_ your— _"_

"'Dash', has been brought up," interceded Dio. "Also have the names 'Art', 'Koe' and 'Dax'."

"Ugh, those are terrible," said Pit, shivering. "Koe just _sounds_ gay. And Dax? What's up with that?"

"I wanted something that sounded cool," said Dark Pit, throwing the used towel at his face now. Pit caught it, and Dark Pit glared at him. "Something unique, that stands out."

"Also, the suggestions of Keiran, Marcus, Darren, and Dariel," said Dio, crossing his arms.

"It seems like you have quite the penchant for names that state with the letter 'D'," hinted Pit.

"Maybe I do," said Dark Pit. "It's a hard, confident letter, but not too overbearing, you know?"

"Sure," said Pit, balancing on the stool with two legs. "It seems like you put a lot of thought into this."

"I have," said Dark Pit proudly.

"Let's lay out some ground rules, then," said Pit. "It can't be longer than three syllables. Now we have Art, left over from that ridiculous list you named off before. You like "D" names, so we'll keep the names Dash, and Dariel, I suppose, though it gives off a more lofty feel, you know?"

"I also like Marsh," said Dark Pit in an undertone. "Not too long, right?"

"Still, longer than mine," pointed out Pit.

" _Any_ name's going to be longer than your's," said Dark Pit, rolling his eyes. "Except Dio's. But that's a nickname."

"Okay, _Marsh,"_ said Pit, crossing his arms. "How does that sound?"

"I don't really know," said Dark Pit, on the fence. "You have to talk about me, and say my name casually, to see if it picks up."

"Okay, now you're making this _way_ too complicated." Pit turned to Dio. "Which one do you like best?"

"Marsh seems okay to me," said a voice by the doorway. The three of them turned. Slight and red-haired, Cupid had slunk into the room like a snake. He looked like he had been waiting there for a while, quietly supervising their conversation; but why they needed supervising, Pit had no clue.

"I like Marsh," said Dio.

"Marsh it is then!" Cupid said ceremoniously, waving his hands with mock celebration.

"Goddesses, what are _you_ doing here?" asked Dark Pit with a sneer in his direction.

"Is that _anyway_ way to treat your host?" asked Cupid. "I have one simple request to ask of you moochers who seem to do nothing but eat my food and sleep in my rooms."

"Moochers? Hey!" Pit said, jabbing a thumb at his own back. "Handicapped person, right here!"

"You're standing, aren't you?" said Cupid, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't be too concerned about this request of you, anywho. It's actually mostly a task for your twin to accomplish."

"What is it, then?" Dark Pit asked skeptically.

"I want you to train my girls," said Cupid. "I'm afraid they're too pampered for convenience, and I want them to learn a little self-defense during your stay here." Cocking an eyebrow at Dark Pit, he said, "It'll keep you from getting _too_ lazy."

"Hey!" said Dark Pit, indignant. "I'm being productive!"

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"Helping Dio . . . cook."

"Right," Cupid said with a look of disbelief.

"Among other things! Pit needs me for . . . emotional support . . ."

"Mmhm," said Cupid, nodding. "Is that seriously the best you can do?"

Dark Pit sat in a moody silence.

"Well, then. Can I expect you to start tomorrow?"

Dark Pit threw up his hands. "What do you expect me to work with? You don't even keep weapons here."

"True, but self-defense doesn't exactly require weapons, now does it?" Before Dark Pit could object, Cupid stopped him with a hand. "In any case, Phosphora contacted me to say that she's going to be making a visit in a couple of days."

"Phosphora is coming?" Dio said, lightening up drastically. "When will she arrive? In the morning? During lunch-?"

"I have no idea," said Cupid tonelessly. "You know how inconstant she is; she says she'll be two minutes, and it turns into two hours."

"Yeah, she told me she'd swing by," Dark Pit said, ignoring the two. "I asked her if she could bring over some weapons for Pit, since you don't have a Weapons Altar. Which makes absolutely no sense. What kind of god doesn't keep a _Weapons_ Altar? Something like that would be pretty essential, if you ask me."

"What I lack in offense, I make up in defense," said Cupid with barely concealed distaste. "There are better things I choose to occupy myself with than in just arms and physical strength."

"And yet, you want us to begin teaching your 'girls' to fight," said Dark Pit. "Hypocritical, much?"

"Cupid is nothing if not hypocritical," said Pit, smirking at the God of Love.

Pit could've sworn that he saw Cupid's thin red brow twitch slightly upward in annoyance, and inwardly Pit rallied. Surely he and Dark Pit hadn't ganged up on the god so easily? Perhaps dealing with him would be easier than he had first imagined. "Just the fundamentals, alright?" Cupid said. "I may have my magic, but they are quite on their own."

Cupid uncrossed his arms and turned back to Dark Pit. "So, lessons, everyday with my girls, starting tomorrow—will that pose any sort of problem?"

"I guess it won't be," Dark Pit said, rolling his eyes. He knew he could refuse if he very well wished, but for some reason it didn't seem to be worth it. It wasn't like he had anything _better_ to do, anyway . . .

You know, besides trying to get info about this 'Winged One' business.

"Marvelous," said Cupid, smiling some. "Pit, after a few days I'm sure you'll be able to join in . . . wouldn't want you getting too complacent, correct?"

"I guess," said Pit uncertainly.

"And it would help with some physical therapy," said Cupid then, a finger to his chin.

Before he could leave, however, Pit spoke up. "Wait—! Um, Cupid?" Pit said, before he lost his resolve. "Do you know anything about—um, Lady Palutena?"

Cupid looked at him, blinked, then seemed to return back to his senses and remember where he was. "Yes. Yes, of course. Follow me."

Pit nodded and Cupid turned into the hallway. He got up from his stool to follow him, casting a look to the other two before exiting. In the next room, Cupid was pacing, his chin in his hand and looking down in deep thought.

Pit couldn't exactly say that he actually liked the idea of him taking care of his matron goddess. It was probably because he couldn't exactly say that he completely trusted Cupid. From the first time he had met him, his eyes held no loyalty; always glimmering and shifting off to the side, he had come to know and recognize Cupid to always be concocting plans of his own to shift the tide over, always back in his favor. But as Pit walked into the room and Cupid's green-blue eyes caught the light from the outside, the rest of his face looked peculiar—making him seem more human than Pit had ever seen him look. His eyes now held him with a sort of softness. He was tired, that much was obvious, but it could probably be said that Cupid took a little comfort in knowing that, for all of his efforts, the work he put in helping Palutena was doing her some good. For if he was tired, didn't that mean that he was focusing his energy on his goddess' wellbeing? Pit held onto this assessment, for it opened a little way into the truth of Cupid's character, into the potential morality of his actions.

"Um . . . well. She's not getting any better," said Cupid, though not without a little emotion in his voice. "Her condition's actually worsened since you last talked to her. She's forgetting a lot more things now. Not long term things, but just small things. And . . . she's gotten a fever. It's not bad, but . . . it could get worse. I've tried to make her feel as comfortable as possible throughout the whole thing while she's going through all of this, but it's hard when I'm also trying to do research on her condition."

"It sounds like you could use some help," said Pit.

"Maybe," said Cupid. "But not from you. You need to be focusing on yourself right now, not on her." Cupid made a face. "I'll try and . . . find someone else with enough patience to do it. Zeus knows my girls won't be the ones doing that. It was hard enough sitting them down to teach them to play the _lyre,_ nonetheless how to tend to me during my experiments. Tending to a goddess? Not very likely. Though I'm sure Teegan would be willing . . ."

"What's the story behind them?" asked Pit. "I was talking to Teegan earlier, and she said that she and her sisters had been serving you for as long as they've remembered. But they're . . . human?"

"They're more than that," Cupid said shortly. "But I don't know what else they might be. Something drew them together, but I have no clue what."

"All of these secrets and prophecies," said Pit aloud. "I feel like there's some higher being playing with us, pulling out strings and messing with our heads."

"Not necessarily," said Cupid teasingly. "Everything _you_ need to know you can get from Palutena."

Pit wished he would stop doing that. Dangling the truth right in front of him—as if it were that easy. But Cupid brought up an excellent point. Why should he consider asking Cupid all of these questions when he could just go to Palutena about them? Everything about the Winged One, for instance. He recalled how strongly she had reacted towards Dark Pit after he had brought it up . . .

 _But that had been when Palutena had been acting all crazy!_ Thought Pit, not wanting to believe it. Though that didn't necessarily mean that everything that Dark Pit had said wasn't true . . .

 _It doesn't matter, now,_ Thought Pit resolutely. _I'll just ask Palutena about it later._

"Fine," said Pit. "I will. But not because of you. It's because I deserve to know, and if Lady Palutena's doing alright . . . then she'll tell me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Cupid, reaching over to smooth down his hair. Pit cringed away from him. Cupid smiled – a bit dotingly, a bit maliciously, if Pit was to be the judge. "But your trust in her is one of reasons why she's kept you so far."

Pit frowned. He didn't want to listen to this – any of it—but something about what Cupid was saying was lodging a firm seed of doubt in his heart. It was kind of sad how he didn't think about asking Palutena about his past until now. He supposed he could blame being so busy, but somehow that answer didn't serve as an excuse for long. He had known Palutena for so long, but obviously she wasn't his mother. Sure, she definitely treated him like he was her kid, but that fact of the matter still stood. Pit for the longest time had been the only angel in existence, and after all this time he didn't know why? Hadn't he asked before?

"But you're right about certain matters that don't particularly include yourself," said Cupid. "No one can wrap their minds around _why_ exactly all of this "dark magic" is happening down on earth, nor why those _venti_ were really unleashed. You could even say that someone specifically planned for us to find out that Palutena had the Mark just so that we would be distracted from the course of things down on the Overworld."

Pit grew all stiff. "Do you really think-?"

"It's too soon to say," said Cupid, "but all I'm saying is that, though you and Palutena are recovering, we can't forget about the real mission."

"Lady Palutena _is_ the real mission," said Pit resolutely. What was he doing, thinking about himself? Palutena needed to get better. That's all that mattered at the moment. Maybe when this was all over he would ask her about where he came from, but now was not the time. "We need to find a cure—"

"—yes, yes, before it's too late," said Cupid, his voice reaching a stern level that could rival Pit's. "But how much longer until that moat holds and Pyrrhon and his dragon escape? And how much longer until Jana's _venti_ do some real damage and tear its way through some major city? Your goddess may be in danger, but so are the lives of the humans down on the Overworld. As soon as you heal up enough, you need to find out whether the life of one god is more important than the lives of all the humans in danger."

Pit shook his head, clenching his fists to his sides. "It doesn't need to be like that," he said, shutting his eyes tight. "We can find a cure—if Pittoo and I split up, I mean-he can trap all the rest of the _venti_ and defeat Pyrrhon's dragon—and I—"

"Maybe, Pit, maybe," Cupid said. "Maybe your search for a cure _won't_ take months—maybe Dark Pit is skilled enough to defeat the dragon on his own. And in this world of chance, there's not much say in deciding one's destiny. So, you may have to make hard, fast decisions while they count, or else . . . or else a lot more people are going to die while waiting."

Pit wanted to say something to that, but he couldn't. He didn't trust himself to, not without sounding completely hopeless and vulnerable.

"You talk as if you actually cared about the humans," Pit said instead. "Like Lady Palutena didn't matter at all."

Cupid gave him a hard look. "No. That's not it at all. Do you think that you're the only one who she's taken into her care? You don't realize—well. You forget that I have loved Palutena for more years than you have been alive. But too often people get too tangled up in their emotions and fail to see the facts. The life of one flawed goddess, or the lives of hundreds of humans?"

"You don't care about the humans as much as you say," Pit insisted. "You derive your power from them; that's all."

"That may be so, but you know I'm right about the other thing," Cupid said accusatively. "I know in the end that you'll chose your goddess, because you're closer to her than you ever will be to a few humans that you've never even met before."

"Well," said Pit. "So much for being the God of Love."

Cupid bowed mockingly. "At your service." Turning away from the angel, he said, "Pit, this is all up to you. Their lives are, quite literally, in your hands. But you can't save them both. You need to make a decision, soon, so that you can work towards that goal and succeed in it. Or else, you'll just fail, and no one survives from this. Is that what you really want?"

XxX


	19. Do You Recall?

" _ **It's just one fight after another. Today is not my day."—**_ **Phosphora, in Chapter 14,** _ **Lightning Battle**_

 **A/N: heh, you though I was finished! You thought I wasn't going to update ever again! Well, that's where you're wrong, my host of dedicated readers!**

 **XxX**

A flash in the sky, and she was there. Phosphora, the Goddess of Lightning, stepped out from the chariot amidst the sound of eager hooves beating on the ground of Cupid's backyard. She placed her hands on her hips, taking in the place. Mazelike hedges, cut into shapes of perfection, as far as her vision would allow her to see. It wasn't the first time she'd been there, that much was certain. Memories she'd like to forget plagued her like a thunderstorm. Unbidden, however, other memories cropped up as she took in the sight of Cupid's garden. Sweeter memories that uncovered more about her feelings for a certain someone she more than liked.

She gave an angry huff of a sigh. This was _not_ how she had planned her entrance. What she needed to do was get in, find Dark Pit, and hand him all of his ridiculous cargo. This many weapons should be criminal, she thought to herself, and she was amazed that Cupid held no objections to her bringing weapons inside of his Palace. He was an odd one, that was for sure.

She heard one of the unicorns stomp the ground, giving an impatient neigh. Phosphora turned away, banishing her recollections at the drop of the hat. Phos and Lux were beauties, compliant to every order she gave them, but Lux could be a bother at times, resistant to human control. She knew the equestrian-like creatures liked to roam free as much as possible, and Lux never hesitated to let her know exactly how he felt when restrained for too long.

"Coming, Lux," said Phosphora, smirking some. She drew close to the animals, reaching up to tuck her hair behind one ear. Her fingers finding no hair there, the motion faltered. Habit.

"Phosphora?"

The Lightning Goddess flinched, recognizing the voice at once. She gritted tersely, "Suck my BALLS, Dio."

Footsteps coming towards her then stopped. Phosphora knew their meeting was inevitable-The God of Wine was Cupid's servant to the very end, and of course he would be the one to come and help her unsaddle her unicorns and bring them to the stables. It was evening, the sun casting the last of its rays to the sky beyond. She couldn't exactly see the sun at the time—Cupid's Palace was positioned in such a way that the ocean at the front entrance provided the perfect romantic scenery to any wayward couple on his ground to enjoy the sun's descent—but what she could see was the sun's lingering rays, orange and red and purple along the heavens.

She gave up trying and turned to him.

"I almost didn't recognize you!"

Phosphora looked at him, mild annoyance burgeoning to contort her facial features. "What in gods' name do you mean by that, Dio?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Dio, his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. "Just—it all makes so much sense."

Phosphora gave a terse sigh. "WHAT makes sense?"

"Well," said Dio, still staring at her with wide eyes, "Why you cut your hair."

"Dio, what—"

"Because you have balls now—you're a man."

"Dio, that doesn't even make any _sense._ How could I have turned myself into a man—"

"Not yourself, but Cupid could have done it."

"Dio, I didn't ask him to _turn me into an effing male_."

Dio smiled, walking a little more towards her. She literally couldn't believe that she was still standing there, having this conversation with him. "That's okay, though, either way. I like both."

"Both—what?"

Dio cocked a mischievous eyebrow at her, like: _Oh, you really don't know what I mean?_

"Oh, ew! _No,_ " Phosphora said, as if he had spoken aloud. " _No,"_ she said again, to make herself clear.

"So, if you aren't a man, why _did_ you cut your hair?" asked Dio.

"Because I _like_ it this way—"

"You keep on cutting it shorter and shorter—"

"Dio, can't you see I'm _not_ interested in a conversation right now?"

"—making you seem like you wish to be a man. Which—can't be your original intention, right?"

Phosphora spun around, fixing him with a hard look. "Dio . . . what is this all about?"

Dio crossed his arms, big and burly though they were, and fixed her with those heartrendingly-purple eyes. _Damn,_ she thought. She thought for a second upon getting another glance at him that he really _hadn't_ changed all that much. He was a god of contradictions; stolid body, with a wide chest and large, dexterous hands. He had a face full stubble that hadn't even revealed itself in an morning shadow the last they had met. But his face was one that melted hearts, that would make small human females get all smiley and cry out "Aw!" at first look at them. "Phosphora," Dio said in quite the same tone as when she had talked to him. "You can't still be mad about the party, can you?"

Her eyebrows rose in a look of disbelief. "You got me _drunk!"_

"You _wanted_ to get drunk."

"You seduced me! I was under the influence!"

"I think you _wanted_ me to seduce you—"

"Dio," Phosphora said, at the edge of her patience. "Do you know the _exact_ effect of the wine you so miraculously created?"

"Still figuring it out," said Dio, smiling.

Phosphora narrowed her gaze at him. She wished she had a better handle on the god, but in all honesty, she was clueless. Letting the matter go, at least for the moment, she jerked her finger behind her. "I have unicorns here. Can you get them unbridled and something to eat while I go and make a delivery?"

"Of course," said Dio suavely, bowing to her slightly.

Phosphora rolled her eyes. "Don't give me any of that crap."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes you do." Phosphora, being herself, knew that when a matter lingered, she could not let it go on being ignored. She prided herself in being direct with her intentions, unlike SOME people . . . "Stop pretending to be so freaking innocent! You –you freaking seduced me . . ."

Her argument soon became invalid the more she looked into his eyes. As much as she wanted to say otherwise, she knew Dio wouldn't sleep with her if he didn't have good reason to. He was the most harmless god- no, the most harmless _being_ she had ever met, and she'd be lying to herself if she'd say that she didn't come on to him that night so many years ago. Her emotions flipped-flopped within her, and not for the first time, she wished that restraining orders existed in the heavenly realm. But, unfortunately, they did not.

But it wasn't like she was being stalked, now was it? She was here on her own, doing Dark Pit -and apparently, Cupid- a favor as well. She came with the deliveries knowing full well who she might run into . . .

A smile tugged at the god's lips, and he stepped towards her cautiously. If she had been serious about that thought about the restraining order, she might have stepped back. But her feet remained firmly planted on the grassy ground.

"Seduced you?" said Dio, and his voice was low. He looked down at her, trying to catch her gaze. "Phosphora, what do I look like to you? The God of Love?"

Phosphora blushed slightly. He had a freaking point. Dio, in a word, was cute, like a German Shepherd, grinning and panting for more. He had his moments, but they were rare and far in between. And maybe—just maybe- she _hadn't_ been as drunk as she had first insisted. _Maybe_ that proclamation was only the product of her embarrassment of sharing a bed with Cupid's ward, and somehow, Phosphora knew Dio knew that too. It was one of the reasons why he kept trying, she though.

Phosphora looked up at him—a mistake. Playful, hopeful purple eyes looked down at her then, inquisitive eyebrows arched high on his forehead. Phosphora's stomach then floored with dread. Dio WAS loyal, loyal to the extreme, and maybe all he wanted was a little love.

But from who? She wondered wildly. He was with Cupid, that much was clear. Unless, he actually wasn't . . .

She shook her head, looking away. No, thank you, she thought. She didn't feel like she was all _that_ sexually ambiguous to hook her fingers in that one.

"Are you going to look after my unicorns, Dio?" she asked impatiently. Her mouth was set into a hard line. "You know they get squirrely underneath all of the harnesses before too long."

"Of course," said Dio, his voice light, a grin on his face. He turned away first, going to tend to the unicorns. "Staying long, Phosphora?"

 _No!_ Phosphora thought at once. She crossed her arms, watching the god deal with the reins of the chariot to free her animals from the chariot. She had matters to attend to at the Overworld, a barrier to manage, and wind spirits to keep track of! . . .

" . . . we'll see," she said vaguely, and took off before her common sense lost a hold of her. Better to leave now, before she gave in and found herself kissing Dio again . . .

"Hasta luego, Phosphora," said Dio from his post, still grinning.

"Yeah, whatever," she replied, not knowing what the hell that even meant. Not that it mattered, anyway. She'd never get the chance to get to know what weird language Dio said to her at odd moments, because that night she was going to be back in Viridi's Gardens, sleeping in her own bed, no matter what her body was telling her.

Phosphora's hands clenched.

Damn.

Now she needed a shower.

 **XxX**

"Will you _stop_ touching me!"

Nikki stepped back, leaving a very uncomfortable looking Marsh in the middle of the floor. Ella stood by, trying to hide a smile beneath her hand.

Nikki looked at him, bemused. "Marsh, you told me to grab you."

Marsh passed a hand over his face. "I did—but I didn't tell you to step so closely to me. You know? You have to –grab me—"

Nikki cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I can definitely do that—"

" _Not_ what I meant." Marsh gave an exasperated sigh. He forced himself to advance towards her—in what he hoped would be in a non-seductive way- towards her. He didn't know why he was being so timid around her—well, that obviously wasn't true. He knew _exactly_ why he was acting so fidgety—and flashes of when he and Ella were in the pool kept on popping up into his mind. He stepped forward, and grabbed the edge of her tunic, hard—and tried to concentrate—then caught himself staring right into her lips. Wow. Was she wearing lip tint? She definitely had been when she had kissed him that first time—

"Now," said Marsh. "You remember what happens next?"

"Um . . . no?" Nikki said, her lips curving into a smile. She was, Marsh thought. _Definitely_ wearing lip tint now. Which didn't make any sense. Who wore lips tint during _training_? "Show me again?"

"Not again," Marsh grumbled. "Come on, you remember this. Grab at my wrist . . ."

Nikki did, grabbing him with the tenacity of a fluffy bunny.

"Come on, now— _harder."_

Nikki gripped just a little bit harder.

Marsh supposed it would have to do. "Okay. Now make sure you have me by the thumb—and then jerk me down with the other hand, sweeping my arm into a position where you have the control now—"

Nikki did as she was told, and Marsh was pleasantly surprised with the results. At the end of the move Marsh's head was pointed down at the floor, his elbow in the air and out of his control.

 _At last,_ he thought. "Good!" said Marsh. He officially deemed it the hardest thing in the world to sound encouraging when one wasn't in the mood to be. Nikki began to press down on his elbow. _"Ow,"_ said Marsh. "Okay now, you've got it, you can let go now—"

But she didn't. Instead, Nikki sweeped him around for an arm hold, so that now his wrist was pinned at his back.

"Nikki—what-?"

"You remember how we trapped you under our spell?" said Nikki into his ear. She was right against his back now, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

Marsh scowled. _Yes,_ he remembered—all too well. "Stop," he said. "This isn't a part of the lesson."

"I know," said Nikki, smiling a little. "But not everything has to go according to plan, does it?"

"Okay, that's it!" said Marsh, through with this. He stepped on her foot—luckily, they were all barefoot- and reached for her face with one hand, forcing her to shrug away from him before he grabbed onto her hair on something else that was on her face.

"Hey!" said Nikki, stumbling away from her and eventually crashing onto the ground. "That hurt!"

Marsh looked at the girl who now clutched at her big toe on the floor in front of him. "I—sorry," said Marsh. He cast a quick look towards Ella, who wasn't laughing any longer; he gazed at him with silent sympathy, with a look that said, _Hey, you messed up, dude._

"I just . . . don't really know how to teach you guys," said Marsh, lending her a hand. She refused it with a pout, turning away from him. "And _you hitting on me_ while I'm trying to get Cupid off my back isn't really helping things!"

Nikki smirked up at him. "Sorry, I just can't help it. You're just soadorable—"

"ELLA! WE'RE GOING TO WORK ON DRILLS!" exclaimed Marsh angrily. "WITHOUT NIKKI!" He shot a dirty look in her direction. "SO YOU CAN JUST SIT THERE AND WATCH UNTIL WE'RE DONE!"

Nikki stuck her tongue out at him from the floor.

 **XxX**

Pit's stomach grew cold at the sound of Palutena's rambling.

"Wh-why does she sound like that?" said Pit lowly.

The God of Love paused at the doorway, the door to Palutena's room slightly ajar. "She's—she seems to be confused about something," said Cupid, choosing his words carefully. "She's alone so much that it's as if her mind keeps on going back to the past, and – she's not always "there" in the head, if you know what I mean?"

"She's seeing things?" asked Pit.

"She thinks she's in the past. She keeps on talking about—ahem—the Gemini," said Cupid, a bit of amusement coloring his voice. "She hasn't mentioned them in decades."

Pit couldn't say that he knew who they were. "Why not?"

"Nervermind that," said Cupid hurriedly, pushing him to come in front of him. "When she sees you, she'll snap out of it. I'm sure it's nothing."

Pit hoped it was. He pushed open the door the rest of the way with one shoulder, letting the into the room. Palutena looked up at them, her face at first riddled with confusion, then breaking into relief. The sight of her still looking like the goddess he knew and loved filled him with a similar sense of joy.

"Pit," Palutena said warmly, her arms open out to him. "I'm so glad you're here."

Pit set the tray of food down on the table and went to her. She hugged him fiercely, as if they hadn't seen each other in months, and not just a day and a half. Pit hugged her back, though not with the same ferocity as her, it was pretty close to it.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into the space between his shoulder and neck. "So, so sorry."

"Sorry for what, Lady Palutena?" asked Pit.

"I thought you had died," she said. "You deserve to know the truth."

Pit didn't know what to say. The truth about –about his past?

"The truth about what?" Pit said, his voice wavering.

Instead of replying, Palutena went on, "If I had known what they had done to you, I wouldn't have let you go," she said. "Now I'm not letting you out my sight."

Pit gave a nervous laugh, squirming a little in her overly-tight grip. "Heh, very funny, Lady Palutena. Not that you're freaking me out or anything, but you're freaking me out. Just a little."

"Um, Palutena?" said Cupid, catching on by this point. "You do know who this is, right?"

"What happened to your brother was my fault," said Palutena, her voice still mournful. Pit literally could barely breathe by that time, and he tried prying himself free from his matron's arms. This goddess was stronger than she looked!

"Who, Dark Pit?" said Pit, regretting that he had chosen to speak. "Ergh—he's just fine, Palutena—"

"Palutena, dear, we brought you food," said Cupid, bringing the tray to her instead. "Wouldn't you like to eat?"

Palutena pulled from Pit in surprise. "Cupid—you've grown so much!"

Cupid's smile grew, but there was a hidden sort of dread there. "Yes. Could you excuse us for a moment?"

Palutena nodded, oblivious to the older angel's growing unease.

"What's up?" Pit asked, still trying to catch his breath. If he had known that Palutena had some serious _guns,_ he'd try to get her to fight with him down at the Overworld sometime.

"She doesn't see you as you really are," said Cupid.

Pit would've laughed if he hadn't seen the look of dead seriousness on his face. "O-kay," said Pit. So his goddess was hallucinating now? "Who am I, then?"

"You're one of the Gemini," said Cupid.

"O-kay then," said Pit. "And who're they, again?"

Cupid's hand flitted around in front of him as he tried to conjure an appropriate explanation. "They were—wards of Medusa. From what I know—Palutena knew them quite well. I thought they were dead, but I suppose I was wrong. It turns out that she believed they were dead, too, but seeing you changed that. I don't know which one she thinks you are now."

"But one of them is definitely dead, right?" Pit said. "She said "after what happened to your brother . . ."

"Right," Cupid said, gauging the angel's reaction.

"Why did she think I was one of them?" asked Pit. "And why was she saying sorry? Did she-?"

"That, my dear Pit, is a mystery," said Cupid. "The last I saw them, they were—well, they were my age. Looked about eight or nine, I would guess. And you look pretty young. I guess your similar ages from the last she saw them tripped her up."

Pit gave the God of Love a hard glare. "You didn't answer my first question. Why does she think I'm one of them?"

"Side effect of the illness, I suppose," said Cupid. "If it's infecting her brain . . ."

 _Memory loss, and now hallucinations?_ Thought Pit, his stomach roiling at the mere thought of it.

"She—she's getting worse every day, isn't she?" said Pit. "I mean—quickly. She's getting new symptoms every day. It's not like we can pretend like everything's going to be okay eventually, right? She's—"

"I wouldn't say that," said Cupid hurriedly. Though it seemed like all he really cared about was watching others suffer, in truth, he had developed a sort of soft spot for the young Captain of Palutena's guard. He didn't really know why-maybe it was because he was angel, like himself, and stuck between two worlds. Either way, as much as he wanted to make sure the angel still had all of the hope that was necessary in seeing his goddess alive and well at the end of all of this—if not for the young angel's sake, then for his. "I'm working hard on this. Teegan is lending me her aid, as well."

"You've _got_ to find a cure for her!" said Pit, his voice ringed with desperation. "Because—if you don't—"

"Pit? Pit, is that you?"

Pit's breath caught as his eyes darted to the door which separated the two. He looked to Cupid then. "P-Palutena—"

"Will be alright," said Cupid, a hand coming to rest on the younger one's shoulder. Well, Pit didn't believe a lick of the god's prettied words, and shivered at the gesture of faux kindness.

The young angel took a deep breath, bracing himself to enter back into the room. From what he heard, Palutena was back to her usual self again, but he couldn't forget the way her voice had sounded at seeing him there the last time. Cupid had said that she and the Gemini were close . . .

No, thought Pit. None of that mattered now. What he needed to focus on was searching for a cure for Palutena . . .

. . . and looking after her wellbeing.

He put on his best fake smile and pushed open the door.

 **XxX**

 **A/N: Hey, lookie there! A love triangle!**

 **#IREGETNOTHING**


	20. Closing In

" _ **I can't just sit around. I need to do something..."—**_ **Pit, in Chapter 18**

 **XxX**

A man and his dragon.

Or rather, a _god_ and his dragon. Because only those bred for divine power could place a hold on the mystical creatures of old, especially an old one such as this one. They both shared the same elemental magic of fire, and their thoughts were so interconnected that what the one creature felt, the other one felt as well. Right then, the two magical beings paced the small clearing in which they were trapped in, enclosed by the moat that obstructed their way. Both the god and the dragon burned bright with eyes of blue fire; for whatever alien infestation he was caught with, the dragon had as well.

Pyrrhon, in his more saner moments, could safely say that a death would be welcome. He was tired of trying to prove his awesomeness, and was doubly tired of being used. He had escaped the Aurum for a quick second, driving them out into space before they could find their way back to earth again; but as soon as he hit back to earth, he realized that he hadn't erased them entirely from his mind yet, and they enwrapped him with their invasive fury once more. Angry at what he had done, the Aurum's sole purpose in lingering in his mind was to drive him absolutely mad. But that didn't mean that they couldn't use him to destroy what was left of his precious Overworld in the process. Now, every move he made was like a conflict within himself; trying not to hurt he things around him, and trying not to cave into the madness himself.

His finding the dragon was part him, part the Aurrum influence. They had noticed that Pyrrhon was lacking in power—not as "awesome" as he had said he was—and sent him off to meld his power with another being that would give him strength to further his quest for destruction. Pyrrhon, though—the real Pyrrhon, the one locked up in the recesses of his depraved mind—had rejoiced at the sight of another being that seemed just as lonely as he. He hadn't seen another dragon in years, and he despaired at what the Aurum might force him to do to it once they felt that its usefulness had run out.

So the lunatic-driven man stumbled about, caught between the throes of this alien influence and his own sanity. And . . . of something else. His mentor had always said that he had the gift of Sight rolling about in his head somewhere, but the young god had never found the time nor the motivation to pursue it any further. Driven by the Aurum-influence had further disconnected him from reality, however, and had pushed him to lose his hold on his mental capabilities; so much so that random Words that were not his own would filter through the computer speech of the parasitic presence that currently resided there. A tug-of-war was to be had, his eyes sometimes glowing with a bright blue luminance, and then, sometimes glowing with a neon-green one.

"Who can conquer Chaos?" He mumbled. "Who can restore Peace? The Mark," he said with a smile. Pacing back and forth, his green eyes of fire darting to and fro, he muttered like a madman, whispering the same words to himself, over and over—

"The Mark will try to destroy us all. Until the Spirits find one." His smile deflated. "Then order will be restored. The Spirits will find one, and at the same time, he will control the Spirits, because they are as much as a part of him as he is a part of them. He will be called The Winged One, but he won't be the first of his kind. There will be Chaos and death, but he won't be the first of his kind. The first of his kind will be called coward, and self-serving, and the Chosen will drive off Chaos where it belongs, and then restore order where it is needed. Only where it is needed," Pyrrhon sing-songed, halting his pacing steps to fold himself cross-legged on the dirt ground beneath him. "Because it will take more than a little time for the Chosen to figure out how to control the Spirits."

"Oh," Pyrrhon moaned. He settled his head between his hands, his face contorted with anguish and his head pounding. The prophecy fever leaving him, he found his way back to reality with little satisfaction. "My head," he muttered, and suddenly he was possessed, possessed with a mad anger of the awareness of his predicament. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD! He screeched to no one, and directly across from him, a tree caught on fire. When he could still feel their presence, he rumbled to the ground and sobbed. "Get them out . . ." And like a light switch, the man immediately stood up to attention, his eyes now glowing with the most vibrant of blues. Like a torch, he shot up into the air, into the sky and through the forest that surrounded him, decimating all that lay about into the destruction that he craved. And all the while a new, manic fervor protruded from his lips, not like the sing-song voice from before, but of a tone that was vastly different. It was a tone that was almost mechanical, driven in its speech, and it was clear that there was a different energy that possessed the man of fire; the energy that he still feared after all this time. And whatever possessed the man with this new, automated drive had taken on the strange drone of numbers, and the man's voice kept on repeating the same ones, over and over and over and over –

"01100100 01100101 01110011 01110100 01110010 01101111 01111001."

 **XxX**

There wasn't much to Cupid's dormitories that the boys had been given to sleep in, so Pit often felt himself rather pressured by boredom more often than not. It was day three of his stay at Cupid's, and with each day that passed he began to feel the walls closing in on him more and more. Cupid's Palace was beginning to appear as a prison to him, and his inability to fly had much to do with that line of thinking.

He turned over in his bed, facing the wall opposite his window. There was a crack there, and he found himself strangely transfixed by the irregularity of his room's construction. He wished that he had made it a point to as Marsh to come and visit every once and a while. As much as he might try and hide it, Pit could feel it (in his belly) that Marsh more than just tolerated his presence. Marsh just wasn't as demanding of company as the light angel was.

But everyone had a want for company every once and a while, right? If he caught Marsh that day, he would have to make it a point for the angel to come and visit him some point in the morning. Because it wasn't like he was actually going to _sleep_ the entire 16 hours he was confined to his bedroom, right? This stuff was boring!

Pit gave a great sigh, flopping down onto his bed back first. This was it—this was hopefully going to be the day when Pit could test out if his wings were working properly. This would also be the day when Pit finally made up his mind to go visit Palutena—and get the chance to go and talk to her about his past.

He tried to remember the last time he talked to her about something like this, each time failing miserably. He even tried to think about a time when he lived without Palutena, and failed at that as well. He couldn't, for the life of him, pull out a single face from his life before Palutena had summoned him to serve.

From what Palutena had told him, he knew that he was five or so when Palutena first found him. But beyond that, the waters of his past were murky. Had he just been too young to remember any detail from his past life? Or was there something else prohibiting him from remembering?

He sat up then, turning around to look at the anomaly that was his wings. Up until about three years ago, he thought himself to be the only angel in existence. Then came Dark Pit, and now there was Cupid, an angel older than both he and Dark Pit. Palutena had kept the existence of another angel hidden from him, and he wanted to know why.

On this matter, he could allow some leeway on the goddess' behalf. It didn't seem like she and the God of Love got along very well on account of some past history no one cared to enlighten him about. It seemed as if she wanted to keep her past—at least, that part of it—hidden.

But even if she chose to ignore Cupid altogether, he still felt like he deserved to know why he was born with wings and no one else had been. What in the world made him, and Cupid, for that matter, so special?

"Good morning, Pit," said Teegan, walking into his room after giving a knock.

"'Morning."

She smiled at him, going about her business like always. She lingered by the room's only table, distributing the various medicines that he was to take that day. They still hadn't exchanged words since the previous morning, when he had asked her about her past. He had a question burning on his tongue now, but he felt like he didn't quite know how to broach the topic.

"Hey, um . . . Teegan?"

The pretty girl with the striking blue eyes looked up at him.

Pit shifted in his bed. "Um, does Cupid have a library around here? Somewhere?"

Teegan smiled brightly. "Of course. Do you know where the Main Dining Hall is?"

"Um . . . no."

Teegan tilted her head in innocent looking confusion. "The one with the five fireplaces in it?"

"Still, no." Pit smiled slightly. "I never really got the official tour . . ."

Teegan stepped back in surprise. "You _haven't?_ But that's Ella's favorite things to do when we have guests!"

"Ella?" said Pit, slightly piqued. "Is that—um, is that the blonde one?"

Teegan smiled mischievously. "Yeah. Why? Do you like her?"

Pit blushed like mad. "Um—no, not exactly. I haven't really gotten a chance to speak with her, is—is all." He cast a hand behind his head. "You're the only one who actually helps me out with anything. What do—what do you guys even do around here?"

Teegan shrugged. "Clean, mostly. Help Dio out when we're not doing errands for Cupid." She made a little pouty face. "Nikki's Cupid's little _messenger._ She's _always_ going down to the Overworld to spy out on all the humans, while Ella and I have to help Cupid with the simple things. Which I don't really mind, not _that_ much. It's just—I wish he would put some variety in the schedule, sometimes."

"Uh-huh," said Pit. "So, you help Cupid with making his spells and potions?"

"Sure," said Teegan. "Sometimes it's boring work, like taking stock of the inventory or fetching him the right powders while he's working when he's too busy to do it himself, but sometimes it's fun. When he has time, he even teaches us about magic."

"Magic?" said Pit, straightening up in bed. "You guys do magic?"

Teegan smiled and shrugged. "Maybe a little, but not without help. My sisters and I can only do it while we're together, and only through certain spells."

"So, you're more than humans," guessed Pit. "Since humans can't do magic anymore, right?"

Teegan looked at him like he was stupid. "How many years of formal education have you taken, Pit?"

Pit looked taken aback. "Um—well, Palutena taught me how to read and write, and I know some basic math, like fractions and multiplication tables—"

"History," said Teegan. "What time periods has she gone over with you?"

Pit looked at her blankly. "I—I guess early history, like when the gods first created the humans and—and stuff like that?"

"Wow," said Teegan. "So you know _nothing_ about recent history? Or about magic?"

" . . . No."

"Wow," Teegan said, not believing her ears. "Pit, humans can do magic. Humans were able to do magic for _years—_ but only certain humans can be called magic-users. They are either born with it, or come across in in their lives through some magical talisman or through some –I guess, special places where magic grows from the earth."

"Whoa," said Pit, feeling extremely stupid. He felt like he should pick up a book. And actually _read_ it. "That's . . . great."

"Cupid found us at one of these places," said Teegan, looking down at her hands. "Our parents—they had left us there as an offering to the gods. They recognized our power, and treated us with great respect, but they were scared of what we were capable of. Eventually they just abandoned us, at the top of this _enormous_ volcano, and demanded that we stay where we were, lest the gods be displeased."

"Wow. I'm sorry, that's just . . . terrible. I guess it would be better if you didn't remember your parents at all, huh?"

Teegan smiled at him slightly but gave no reply.

Pit swung his legs out of bed. He was tired of lying around. He didn't think he could sit still for another moment, despite Cupid wanting him to stay in bed for at least another hour or so. So, he sprung up, took the potions that Teegan had laid out for him (they all tasted amazingly good, but the cotton-candy one was still his favorite), and turned the girl promptly. Suffice the to say, Cupid's servant looked surprised at his eagerness, for usually, because of his healing state, and because of the drugs he was constantly on, Pit was drowsy for the better part of the day. But not today. Today he was going to find a cure, and they were going to be able to save the rest of the humans of the Overworld, too.

"Hey, Teegan. You wanna help me with something?"

 **XxX**

"What's up, Chuck?"

Dark Pit cringed inwardly as he turned around, already knowing who it was. Phosphora felt the need to grace him with a new name every single week. It was probably the reason why he didn't get too annoyed anymore with the name that he was originally donned with –Pittoo. Now Phosphora seemed to have a new personal favorite, and Dark Pit had been dealing with it for about a couple of weeks now. But now Phosphora was here. What in the Underworld did she want?

"That's not my name," said Dark Pit, sticking out his chest a little bit. "The same with Dark Pit, too, or Pittoo or any of the other names you've thought for me. My name's Marsh."

Phosphora cocked her head to the side, looking faintly bemused. "Really? That's the one you came up with?" Dark Pit clenched his fists.

"Yeah."

"That's too bad. Did Pit choose it for you, and you had to live with it 'cuz you lost a bet?"

"Ignoring that. What in Skyworld do you want? You can go back to Viridi's place, now that you're not needed here anymore."

Phosphora grinned at him like an elf. And she really did look like an elf right then; she had cut her hair, right above her ears. Pixie-cut. Now she didn't have those stupid red highlights at the end of her hair anymore. She looked better this way. "Cute. I was looking for you, actually. You ready to head back?"

"Back where? To Hanging Gardens?" said Marsh, hardly able to believe his ears. "No!"

"Sorry, bud, but that's not an option," said Phosphora. "I came here to deliver weapons, sure, but Viridi never agreed to this being a long-term stay."

"It's only been two days!" insisted Marsh. "I haven't gotten anywhere because Palutena's been so sick, and Pit's been trying to recover, too."

"You don't have _anything_?" said Phosphora in irritation. "You haven't even cracked open a book to see if you could find anything there?"

"I have," muttered Marsh, surly. "A little."

"And what have you accomplished, huh?" said Phosphora, hands on her hips. "Have you even _mentioned_ this prophecy to Palutena?"

"No!" said Marsh. He could hardly believe that he was being bossed around by this brat who Viridi called her Second Lieutenant. "You wanna know why? Because this stuff is old. Take the Chaos Kin. Nobody can explain its origins, and barely anyone remembers the last time it got out. You wanna know why? Because it happened such a long time ago, and nobody was there when it devoured its god!"

"I was there," said Phosphora.

Marsh blinked. "You—you were?"

Phosphora looked to the ground as she replied. "Yeah—sort of a wrong place, wrong time deal. I didn't see it, per se—but I saw its victim. A god. The Thunder God, actually . . ."

"I didn't know," said Marsh quietly.

"Doesn't matter," said Phosphora, refocusing on the dark angel. "The Chaos Kin didn't get to me, and the God of Thunder was already dead when I found him. This Mark is new for everybody, because barely any have gotten attacked by the Chaos Kin and have lived to tell the tale. But that's completely off subject—"

"But it could help," said Marsh with a hint of hope. "It could give us a starting place to look to help with the cure."

"Or, we can move on with trying to find out what's up with this Prophecy, and see if it has any connection to what's been infecting the Overworld—"

"No Prophecies, from what I've read," said Marsh lowly. "Like I said—the histories don't even cover it, it was so long ago. From what I've seen, all the gods who knew the original Prophecy have all died –except Palutena—"

"But you haven't gotten anything out from her," said Phosphora, leaning against the wall.

"I'd like to see you try it," spat Marsh. "Accusing someone who's been sick all this time to tell you more information—even Pit's been feeling the strain. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"I know it's been hard," Phosphora said tersely. "But Viridi's getting impatient. If you're not feeling useful here, then just leave. We need to be taking action, and we need to be taking it _soon,_ With you and me and Viridi together. She wants you to transfer your interests to what's going on down at the Overworld."

Marsh was silent. "I'm not going to just quit when things get hard. It's only been a couple of days."

"It's not all as simple as that," said Phosphora.

"No, you're right," said Marsh, looking at her. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Phosphora didn't say a word, holding his gaze.

"Well, my leaving isn't an option," said Marsh. "No matter how disposable she thinks her allies may be—"

"It's not that, either," said Phosphora. "But you know how she is. She wants results, and she doesn't want to see me back at the Hanging Gardens without you in tow."

"In tow?" said Marsh with a snide air. He crossed his arms, leaning against the opposite side of the wall just like she had done. "I'm not some kind of pawn. Sometimes I think you gods forget that."

"Would it kill you to check up at the library, at least?" said Phosphora, clearly on her last straw. "I could help you, even, before I took you back."

"What, did she tell you to do that too?" said Marsh, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm staying here. I haven't had much progress, but I'm sure I'll get somewhere." He smirked. "Besides, I'm pretty sure she's not going to murder you if you go back there and I'm not with you-"

"STOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU!" said Phosphora, her eyes ablaze. Marsh blinked at her, his gold-violet gaze wide, and wondered at the pain that was in the back of his head. Wait, had she shoved him against the wall? He looked down at the space between them. She had! He looked back up at her. Yeah, and she was definitely _grabbing_ him right now, too. What in Skyworld. . .?

Her mouth was tight and tiny as she spoke. "This isn't just about you, okay? This isn't about you and your delusions of independence and about her asserting her control over you. You need to get your head out of your ass—for once!" Marsh blinked, noticing even in the dim light of the hallway, the purple rings underneath the goddess' eyes, wondering, _where the hell did_ those _come from?_

"I'm not making this all about me!" Marsh said, not liking the way she was holding him right then. "Haven't you been listening to me this entire time? I want to stay here in order to help Pit and Palutena. I want to find a cure, and I want to find some answers."

"If the truth's what you really want, then find some answers for us," said Phosphora heatedly. "And make up your _mind!"_

"My mind's already made up!" shouted Marsh. "Tell that to your goddess, huh?"

"There are people _dying_ down there, and you're just going to hide up here?" said Phosphora, her voice low and tense until the very end. _"_ This isn't just about what's good for Pit and Palutena and all of the gods living comfortably up here—this is about crops being destroyed and whole families' life lines being demolished!" Phosphora let go of him and began to pace around their small little space. Marsh brushed himself off, wondering, _is it really all that bad down there?_

"This is about people starving and people being scared, not knowing what's going to happen next, and you're just here, being so freaking selfish, while Arlon and I have been working non-stop and –and—"

"Okay," Marsh said, noticing her tension building. "I understand."

"Do you?" said Phosphora, casting him a hateful glance. She let go of his collar—He was really, _really_ getting sick of all of this grabbing just to get across a simple point—and looked as if she were trying to compose herself. He let her. He didn't want another bout of yelling being launched at him, in any case . . . "I just don't want you to be getting all comfortable up here. Viridi's all stressed out, and it's—it's not pretty. She's barely had time to come up with ways to save the ecosystem, nevermind trying to find the source of all of this dark magic. And her power's weakening . . ."

"Her too?" said Marsh quietly.

"With all the damage being done on the Overworld? You bet," said Phosphora, her anger finally draining away to something more soft, into something a lot like sympathy. "If you could see her . . ."

"I'll try harder,' said Marsh resolutely. Phosphora gave him a doubtful glance. "I will!"

"I should take you down on the Overworld to let you see all of the _fun_ you're missing," said Phosphora without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She sighed. "I should take you back . . . "

"I need to stay with Pit," said Marsh, resolutely. "Really, I do. This is as hard for him and . . . I can't picture him being alone in this love nest with Cupid and his little servants running around . . ."

Phosphora rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't even get me started with those girls. I know what you mean. His servants?" She scoffed. "More like his little love slaves." She puffed out her cheeks. "Viridi's not going to be happy about this . . ."

"I'll handle this," said Marsh. "I'll get the information . . . I'll think of something."

"You better," said Phosphora, starting to walk off, and Marsh did his best suppressing what would've been his immediate response to that. No, if he wanted to get their trust, he'd probably have to try just a little bit harder.

Something like guilt dripped its ugly way through his stomach, a feeling that he thought he'd be free of too many times before. But ever since all of the trouble on the Overworld had cropped back up again, it had started making its unwanted way back to him again—first with seeing Eden, and now with hearing of the situation down at the Underworld. Now, he suspected that he wouldn't ever be free from the hands of guilt until he was all good and free—but truly, at what cost? Leaving the gods behind would mean leaving behind the Power of Flight—as well as abandoning Pit. He couldn't do that . . .

It was the first time in his entire existence that Marsh had to choose between helping the gods and helping the people of the Overworld. Phosphora was already worn thin, and her words resonated deep. Was he really making the right decision? Or was he just being selfish, as usual, choosing comfort over duty?

 _No . . . no!_ thought Marsh, with difficulty. The world just had to wait a little longer. He would find out the information, about the Prophecy, and about these occurrences down on earth.

Thinking back on it, he figured he must have been changing, because since when did he care more about the gods of Skyworld more than the people in the Overworld?

Anxiety settled in again, clinging to his rib cage like some parasitic creature.

But worrying about the consequences of his actions wouldn't do him any good. The only thing he could do at the moment was getting stuff done, in order to prevent future losses down on earth.

Damn, he hoped he was making the right decision . . .

 **XxX**

 **A/N: Had to shorten this chapter. I felt like my chapters were getting way too long. As a result, not much happens . . . but there's a rendition of that 'prologue' section at the beginning that I said that I had missed. You guys didn't forget about Pyrrhon, did you now?**

 **I have mixed feelings about his character. Felt totally betrayed when he allied himself against Pit in the game. Now, despite everything that I've done in this chapter to make him somewhat relatable, I feel as though everything I'm doing to him—and about to do to him- is everything he deserves.**

 **Did Phosphora seem a bit too OOC? Wasn't sure. I sort of wanted to age a bit, you know? Make her more capable, more mature-like for this story.**

 **And don't worry, my next update won't be a month in between. (Hopefully) What I want to post for Chapter 21 is almost complete.**

 **Prepare for the feelzzzz.**


	21. Come Undone

_**"Get up, fall down. Get up, fall down. Fight in the air, fight on the ground. ... Peaks and valleys, highs and lows. Pick your friends, not your nose."**_ **Pit, in Chapter 3**

 **XxX**

Heart thumping, the little angel could only hope that Palutena was as well this time as Cupid had said. He handed over her food with a smile, having brought it up to her room on a silver platter that Dio had provided for him. Sitting down at the edge of her bed, he could only be hopeful that his work with Teegan that day would pay off. They weren't getting far . . . but maybe the next day, they would-

"Pit—you didn't get a fork?"

Pit blushed. "Oh—uh, I guess I didn't. I can go down and bring you one if you want—"

Palutena only chuckled and shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'll eat with my fingers. Though I don't understand why you chose to bring us both knives with nothing to hold the food down with . . ."

"Right. Sorry," Pit said, looking down and blushing. "I guess I was too excited to see you to think—I don't know, correctly.

Palutena smiled. "It's fine, Pit. Really. I'm glad you came down to see me."

Dio had prepared for them a delicious spread. On top of the green beans and potatoes, he had prepared a peanut sauce with some slow-roasted turkey. They feasted on the wide bed, Palutena sitting up and looking pale but not necessarily sickly, just in need of some sun. Pit sat, legs crossed and plate on his lap. The white meat separated thinly in between bites, rich and savory.

It had taken a while to convince Cupid that, yes, he was alright to see his goddess again. After recent events it was obvious that Pit might have trouble processing the potential death of his goddess, and the ensuing madness that was following from it. But, he had told Cupid, if only he could see her smiling face again, he would be unstoppable. And already, his mood was climbing.

The decay in her brain was spreading, Cupid had said, but there were still parts of her brain that hadn't been subject to the Mark's destruction yet. He warned him that there were days where Palutena had trouble recognizing the people around her—Pit knew this from experience—and then there were days where she was smiling and lucid as ever. Pit took that chance. "Besides," The God of Love said, with faux nonchalance (because Pit had become better at sensing these sorts of things—Cupid was worried about Palutena's condition, just the same as he was, but chose to hide his fear under a face of confidence) "might as well go and see her now, while she's—well—in her right mind—"

"She's not crazy," Pit had said.

"No," said the older angel, shifting uncomfortably, "but she's getting there."

Indeed she was, if his last visit with her was any indication of that. Still, after his recent progress with Teegan that morning, Pit had recommitted himself to be optimistic for her recovery.

He swallowed slowly. "So. How're you feeling?"

Palutena let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. "Off and on again, I suppose. Cupid's usually the only one keeping me company, and it gets annoying after a while."

"Yeah. He's always getting in people's business." Pit stuck another piece of turkey in his mouth, looking at Palutena and trying not to feel all sad. It was nice having a normal conversation with her, for once—he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

Palutena noticed him looking at her, and gave him a look. "What?" she said, tilting her head.

"I just—I don't trust Cupid," said Pit, not wanting to voice his real thoughts. "Do you really think he's doing all he can to help you?"

"Yes, I do," said Palutena solidly. "I'm not dying. I don't even feel like I'm anywhere close to being that!"

"If you say so," said Pit, still keeping an eye on her. "But – you understand where I'm coming from, right? Just the other day, you didn't recognize me when I had first entered the room. You thought I was one of . . . the Gemini? That's what Cupid told me. And you sounded so guilty . . ."

Palutena gave him a funny sort of smile. "What?" said Palutena, looking deep into his eyes.

Pit blinked. "You don't remember?"

"No. Goodness, you make it sound like I was going crazy," Palutena said, ducking her head down with a nervous smile on her face. She fiddled with her napkin. "Don't tell me that _actually_ happened."

"It did," said Pit, trying not to choke on his own words. "Cupid—he hasn't updated you on the – the seriousness of your condition?"

"Hardly a condition, Pit, I'm just sick," said Palutena, a trace of annoyance now in her voice. "Are you saying I mixed you up with one of the Gemini?"

"Yeah," said Pit. "That's what Cupid told me, that you felt bad—about something that you had done with them—"

"I see," said Palutena, taking a piece of turkey and chewing it slowly. She looked at her angel, who was gazing up at her, his eyebrow creased with concern. "Now, don't look at me like that."

"You're losing your memory," said Pit, his voice rising. "How do you expect me _not_ to look at you like this!"

"Pit, calm down," said Palutena. "I'm getting better; that's what Cupid last told me. He must have—finally found something that turned over my condition, or whatever you call it. It's not that bad!"

"Do you feel any better?" asked Pit, teeth worrying at his lip. "I mean, I know it's more of a mental thing than anything, and from what I can see you certainly _look_ better, and your mood's—changed—"

"I do," said Palutena, a chuckle in her voice. "I mean, sure, I still get headaches, and the fevers. It clears up from time to time, but it doesn't actually feel as though they're getting worse. And it certainly doesn't feel like I'm dying." She gave him a sad sort of smile. "So, stop worrying."

"I don't see how that's possible right now!" said Pit doubtfully. "I mean, ever since with Zeus' funeral, I can't help but feel—"

"What?" Palutena said, her eyes growing wide. "Zeus'—what?"

"His funeral," said Pit with agonizing difficulty. "The Mark—it claimed him first—"

"Claimed him? You mean he's dead?" She struggled with his words, turning them over and over in her mind. "How—how did he die?"

"Lady Palutena, you were there," said Pit, his grip tight on the plate in front of him. "You don't remember? It was just a few days ago. You found him, and then we had a funeral for him back at his Temple. The Mark—"

"Oh, Zeus," said Palutena, covering her face with her hands. "My mentor—he—"

"It's okay, Lady Palutena," said Pit, reaching over to drape his hand over hers. His voice began to tremble—it was hard enough seeing his goddess break down at the funeral. Now it was as if she were going through the motions once again, the same pain becoming clear again in her mind. "It was a nice event. You would've liked it. You had insisted that we hold it at his Temple. Phosphora guards the place now—Though I'm not sure how well it'll last under her care, you said it would be fine—"

"How do I not remember all of this?" Palutena said, looking at him, her cerulean eyes wet. "You said I found him? How? Where? What had killed him?"

"The Mark," said Pit, his voice low. "The Mark had taken him. It's a thing that the Chaos Kin leaves at the back of its victim's neck—even if it's been defeated. You told us that it had laid claim to his mind, and that was the reason I got struck by lightning . . ."

"And now I have it, and I'm losing my memory," said Palutena with an air of finality. "By the Overworld . . ."

"Cupid's been helping us out a lot, I think," said Pit patiently. "He's been trying to find the right cure to beat this thing—though it's never been done. Usually every time the Kin comes, it consumes the soul of its victim and goes off to find its next meal. Never in history has there been any records of someone surviving long enough to contract its Mark . . ."

"So it's a disease," said Palutena, her voice thoughtful and contemplative. She looked to the other side of the room, and her eyes grew wide with panic. "But why? Why does this have to happen to me?" She looked down, her head in her hands again. "I've done so well . . . ever since Zeus chose me to become a god of Skyworld, I've protected the humans despite everything else. Despite my sister turning against me, against everything we've always believed in. Despite Cupid, despite Nereus and the lure of going back to the ocean with him . . . "

"I'm sorry, Lady Palutena," said Pit, not liking the fact that his goddess was suffering. She sought an answer that was beyond his to give, and all attempts at answering it himself seemed beyond his capability to give. "Really, I am."

"Or maybe . . . maybe it was because of the Gemini?" thought Palutena out loud, still not looking at him. "You had said . . . you had said that I had confused you with them. My greatest mistake—and now I'm sentenced to die?"

"I don't know," said Pit. "Who are the Gemini?"

"Unless, it's them who gave me this curse," said Palutena, her voice steely and on the verge of vengeance. "Users of dark magic, the spawn of my arch nemesis . . ."

"You mean, Medusa?" said Pit hopefully. He was up for beating up some baddies, if they were the ones who had manipulated this Mark onto his goddess. Anything that would make her feel better, with a peace of mind that would be a warm welcome to whatever Palutena was experiencing now . . . "The Gemini – they worked for her?"

"Yes," said Palutena, her blue eyes clouded over with something like complete loathing. "You must find them, Pit. That must be the answer. They must be working me under a spell that is making me so ill."

"But . . ." Pit felt like he was at a loss. Cupid had confirmed that the Chaos Kin was the one that was making her ill, not by any outside force. "It's not them—"

"It has to be," said Palutena. "Once they're defeated, I'll be well again."

"But it's not like that, Lady Palutena," cried Pit hopelessly, for he didn't think his goddess was really listening to him now. "Didn't you hear me? You found Zeus—and he had that Mark of Chaos on the back of his neck—"

"They'll be at the Underworld," said Palutena. "I'm almost sure of it. Because where else would they go? I banished them from Skyworld. And once you find them . . ."

"I can't," interrupted Pit. Palutena turned to him in the midst of her mad tirade, and he felt the gaze of her displeasure. But that wasn't his goddess, not really. Her eyes were cloudy, unfocused, and not their usual blues. What if this was Lady Palutena during one of her phases again? He thought worriedly. The best thing for him to do then was to try to calm her down.

"You know I can't, Lady Palutena," he tried again. "Because—what if you d-die before then? Then, no matter how many people I beat in your name, you'd still be—gone . . ."

"Are you questioning me, angel?"

Pit swallowed. "N-no . . ." he replied nervously. Her voice was low and sharp, just as it sounded when she had actually been controlled by the Chaos Kin. This wasn't like her . . . it wasn't her at all. But he could handle it, he thought confidently. Really, he surprised even himself by the way he wasn't running out of the room just then, calling for Cupid. Because Lady Palutena right then was _his_ responsibility, wasn't she? Just like he had been hers all of these years. "Just . . . don't you think that I'd be more useful here? Trying to figure out this whole Mark-thing? Because that's what I've been doing most hours, Lady Palutena . . . looking through histories and trying to see if there has been any other occurrences like yours with the Mark—"

"Listen to me well, angel," said Palutena, her eyes dark and intense. "If I wanted to find a cure, I would have one of Cupid's girls do the job for me. But you—I made you Captain of my centurions for a reason. I want you to go down to the Underworld and fight, and fight until you get an answer. Defeat the ones who put this curse on me, and then we can find the 'origins' of this Mark, got it?"

"Okay," said Pit slowly. "But, Palutena, you're sick, you're really, really sick. Don't you think you should stop and think about this for a little bit? Before you go sending me off? I mean, don't you still think you're being a bit—I don't know, rash –?"

The platters of food clattered to the ground, and what happened next, the angel didn't think he could quite explain afterwards. He knew that he had fought with Palutena before, had even gone through such lengths as to engage in combat with his matron goddess, but something about the intimacy of the situation, and the tension that rolled off her shoulders right then, was probably a couple of the factors that made the next movement from her all the more alarming. He had been hurt before, he reminded himself—had been hurt by her, even. But the action made towards him, like this—both of them on the bed, eating, and chatting so calmly just moments before—that was probably what made it all the more worse to think back on later on.

Pit was on the floor, in the midst of fallen foods and knives, a sting like fire at his cheek, and he didn't know what to really say. A burgeoning sense of shame made way in his stomach, even the angel knew that he was in the right. He wanted to apologize, even though he knew it wasn't necessary. His rational side was at war with his emotions, screaming at him to get up, to brush it off, to remember, beyond everything else, that the woman who had sent him spiraling to the ground was not, in any way possible, his goddess—but it kept on getting trumped by that tidal wave of emotion, that kept on saying, over and over, that he had done something wrong.

He had never been punished like that before. Sure, when times called for it, Palutena had had to step up to become the father figure in Pit's life that he had never grown up with. His being a rather gullible sort to begin with, he usually fell for any threats that Palutena made his way if he didn't act the way she wanted him to. But even at the worst of times—when a mission down on earth would call for his attention, and he would stray from the path, and endure terrible consequences in the moment—never had Palutena smacked him. Usually a lecture would ensue, making sure that he wouldn't act up again, and a hug followed soon after—Palutena was the Goddess of Light, mind you, and even her reprimands came with loving reassurances. This experience—it was completely new to him. He was even more perplexed the more he thought about it, his emotions taking over and trying to find a reason, a reason beyond the goddess' own madness.

He was almost certain (through the high-pitched whining going through his own head, making him even more dizzy from the impact of the blow) that Lady Palutena was still talking to him, yelling at him or something for talking back to her. At that, Pit thought he could still stand up and rectify the situation—still able to push his emotions aside to get her to be thinking straight. Eventually, however, her voice dwindled into coughing, thick and grating to Pit's own ears. Feeling as though something was horribly wrong at this point, he got to his feet, ready to help her even though it had been her fault that he was on the ground in the first place.

But before he could go to do anything, the goddess was hacking up her food –- seemingly mid-bite, something had gone down incorrectly, or something to that extent—-and Pit was about to crouch over her, to have her sit up in bed, and to help her get the food out of her system. But then the goddess began to heave, and Pit had to step back, to avoid the resulting contents of her stomach—and it was then when he finally ran downstairs to Cupid for help, because his goddess would be a handful to anyone, even to those with experience, and he couldn't do handle it any longer by himself.

 **XxX**

He didn't come back to her room that night.

 **XxX**

"It's not awkward at all," said Cupid, truly smiling for what felt like the first time in ages.

"Yes, it is," said Marsh grumpily.

"No, it's not," said Cupid, swallowing the last of his green beans. "You just have to remember that we are all older and more superior to you, and you are just one puny angel against the three of us gods."

"See, if you put it that way, he is going to feel awkward," said Dio teasingly. "Marsh, Phosphora and I aren't _really_ gods—"

"Says you!" snapped Phosphora.

"You're not making things better, alright?" said Marsh, pushing his turkey around his plate like moody child. "I wish Pit were here—"

Footsteps, pounding at the stairs down the hall, and then the sound of running. Marsh stopped talking when Pit dodged into the room, out of breath and tense as hell.

"Pit," said Marsh, standing up. "What—?"

"Lady P-Palutena—" Pit said, breath catching in his throat and a warm blush coloring at his cheeks. His turned to Cupid. "She's throwing up. Out of nowhere. You have to help—"

Cupid got up at once, running out to the adjacent doorway to tend to his goddess.

Pit wrapped his arms over himself, looking down. He heard the soft pacing of his twin's footsteps coming towards him, stopping just at his frame of vision.

"Aren't you going to help?"

The angel opened his mouth to speak, a sob coming to surface in its stead. Biting down on his lip, he could only manage to shake his head.

Marsh peered into his face, not liking what he saw. "Your cheek is red," he muttered.

Pit shook his head wildly.

"Did she . . .?"

Pit shook his head again.

"Don't lie to me," growled Marsh.

Pit shuddered. "What do you want me to say? She's not acting right, she's been . . . different for a while now. I don't know how to help her, she—"

"That doesn't matter," said Marsh, steadfast as ever. Tears leaked their way past the sanctity of his twin's eyelids once more. "Come on, let's have you sit down," he said, beginning to push him towards the table.

Pit shook his head once more. "She doesn't know about Zeus—doesn't _remember_ him—she's f-forgetting more than we thought—and—" He looked up then, glaring vehemently at the angel beside him. "He knew."

"What?"

"He knew! Cupid must have known ab-about how _bad_ things were getting! P-Palutena doesn't even r-remember why sh-she's in this state—she can't even remember how she got her Mark, and w-what Zeus' death meant—"

"Here, hon," said Phosphora, offering up a napkin to wipe at his face. Pit took it, not realizing until now that she and Dio had risen from their seats until then, and he felt like a fool, a blubbering idiot who didn't know how to make sense of his surroundings, too easily hurt, and too easily broken.

"She wanted to go after the Gemini in the Underworld," said Pit hurriedly. He looked at his brother in fear. "She wanted me to go. But I don't think they're actually bad, you know?"

"Right," said Marsh, looking at him in worry.

"I mean, she's blaming them, but it's just a disease, right?" said Pit, trying to make connections in his overly-flustered state. "They're not to blame for any of this, right?"

"Let's pack up," said Phosphora, casting Dio a glare, as if he weren't doing enough to mend the situation. "Clear the table. I think it's about time you tuck in, Pit."

Pit nodded obediently, the frenzy of the evening catching up to him. But even as he was being carted up to his room, he still asked in worry, "We can't let her hurt anybody else, okay?"

Marsh frowned. He knew that he should breach the topic a little better than the way he had been, but he still allowed himself to be cautious at this point. "That goes without saying, Pit."

"Alright," said Pit, a small little smile making it up to his face. "Then we don't tell anybody else about this, you understand?"

He did, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. "No!" he hissed to his twin's ear, and Pit flinched visibly. "We need to tell Cupid! So that he can handle her differently—so that he knows!"

"Everyone else would treat her differently," said Pit, and Marsh didn't like the way he sounded—distant, almost. "They would never look at her the same way. They wouldn't, even when she got better—"

"If she gets better—"

"No," said Pit tersely, " _when_ she gets better. I can't believe anything differently, Marsh. She's going to get better after this, and then we can all just ignore this whole nightmare ever even happened."

Marsh walked sullenly on, silent and pensive. He didn't like what he was agreeing to, but what more would Cupid be able to do? He already knew that Palutena's illness came from the dredges of the Chaos Kin, and Pit was confident this one little detail about their conversation upstairs wouldn't make a huge in her recovery. "I don't like this."

"You don't have to," said Pit, again with his funny little smile. "Just trust me on this one, okay? Palutena's going to remember what happened, and everything's going to look up past this point. It really can't get any worse past this point . . . man, I really just said that last part, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," said Marsh, shoving his door open. He stood there until his twin collapsed in bed. This conversation wasn't over, not by a long shot. But maybe he would see better reason in the morning, after some rest. "I'll go see how Cupid is doing with Palutena. Then I can come back and we'll talk about this some more, alright?"

"Okay," said Pit, his voice muffled by the pillows. Marsh was sure that by the time he came back the angel would already be asleep again, but here's hoping.

 **XxX**

A couple hours later Marsh entered into his borrowed room with news on his lips.

He poked the angel on the back. He was carrying a mug.

"I brought you hot chocolate," Marsh said awkwardly.

Pit didn't stir or say anything as he brought the mug over to the stand of his bed. Marsh sat at the edge, talking to a Pit who couldn't be asleep because he was still sniffling like crazy.

"Cupid gave me the run-by on what happened to Palutena up there," said Marsh. "You know, besides . . . anyway, her gag reflex is pretty much shot. The disease isn't just making her lose her memory, it's messing with her emotions and with her mobility, as well. She's not . . . going to be able to take down food anymore. . ."

"Pit, I'll try harder," said Marsh to a conversation that seemed to be getting even more and more one-sided. "I know I haven't been the best getting you through this. I have a responsibility to you guys, no matter what I want to try to admit to myself. Not just you, either . . . but to Viridi and Phosphora too. Especially them."

Marsh got up then. "And I'll trust you to handle Palutena. I still don't think you're making the right decision . . . but she's your goddess, okay? But if anything happens where it turns out that I have to tell someone . . . I will. No matter what you say. Just promise me this, Pit. Don't go and visit her for a few days. Give me a little peace of mind."

By then Marsh was out the door, leaving the hot chocolate on the stand behind him. Pit let it go cold.

 **XXX**

 **A/N:**

 **I had to chop off Phosphora's hair in order to write her. Her hairstyle from the game was searing something fierce into my brain. I hated it.**

 **I feel like I made her more mature here than she is in the game. She's about the same age as she would be, but in my head she seems more down-to-earth and has less of a high-pitched voice.**

 **Mad Cow Disease (the disease I based Zeus' and Palutena's illness on) not only drives the victim insane, but also incapacitates them physically, as well. Palutena's not really "sick" as Pit wants to think she is; her brain truly and really is wasting away. Paralysis begins when the disease creeps to the part of the brain that enables mobility. In less developed countries, it's been heard that the victim dies via starvation; because sometimes, the disease claims parts of the brain that disables the part of the mind that enables proper swallowing, and without machines to pump food into the stomach directly, there's more of a chance in surviving after the body loses so many nutrients.**

 **It's crazy to think how much the brain really controls. The disease literally makes holes into the brain of the victim, where it can incapacitate the victim in a variety of ways.**

 **I'm not going to be so cruel as to starve Palutena to death, though I did deteriorate her gag reflex in this chapter. Nah, I have plenty of other methods of being evil . . . mwahaha.**

 **Please Review.**


	22. Oh Brave Angel

" _ **You are the Arrow of Light that pierces the Darkness!"—**_ **Viridi to Pit in the chapter,** _ **The Lightning Chariot**_

 **XXX**

Phosphora was outside again, at the same place they had kissed last time. The starry space above reflected off the water of Cupid's fountain. She didn't even need to look up to know that that was the same as well. A clear night.

Phosphora settled herself on the base of the fountain, closed her eyes and listened. What birds that had been out during the daytime were long gone, replaced by the soft din of the owls. Sweet and lovely, they dedicated their music to the night, joined their sound with the frogs of the pond, and the evening crickets. A beautiful symphony.

The sights and smells were the same, but nothing could mimic the smells of that night so well as when Dio was there. He smelled of wine—he always smelled of wine—but he also smelled of spices—of fresh cloves and nutmeg. Phosphora had wondered later if Cupid had had anything to do with it. But then she figured that, if he did, he wouldn't have had Dio smell like a spice cabinet, but like something dirty, like wilted cabbage and old milk. Something that made him seem undesirable, that solidified Dio as his and no one else's.

Cupid was possessive like that.

But that thought hadn't come until later. Phosphora fingered the fringes of Dio's laurel leaf, took a deep breath, and drowned. There really was fresh cloves there, interwoven in the branch, manufactured by Dio's own hands. All Phosphora could think about then was the fact that she smelled of cinnamon, on behalf of Viridi, and giggle. Two spices as strong as these should belong together, did they not?

Later, when she had kissed him, she didn't think about whether or not being drunk was swaying her judgement. She didn't even think about whether or not Dio's judgement could be marred at that moment, just marveled at the fact that his arm's held her then, not like any god's, but like a normal, human man. It was one of the things Phosphora liked about Dio. He didn't try to embellish, to show off. In fact, some of the time he grew to be quite embarrassed when he talked about the power which he was capable of as a higher being. She liked the fact that Dio's hair was soft and real to the touch. It was simple, and he was simple too. He didn't try to hide. He was open and clear. He didn't try to take control of her like Cupid would have, or try to assert her ever-present self-righteousness like Palutena does. Dio laughed easily, smiled easily, and grew sad very easily. He didn't hesitate in asking questions, and if he liked you, you knew.

 _If only it could be that way with everyone._

A smile pervaded its way on Phosphora's face as she recalled the smell that Cupid enjoyed most. The smell of incense. Like something sacred, he would light sticks of it all around his bed room, and if Dio had just some from there, Phosphora would've been able to smell it. She had smelt it before, the smoky-sultry scent of the low born on them both, by chance while Dio served them dinner or in passing down at the hallways. It clung to him like guilt, and she would notice how his eyes would get the slightest pinkish tint from being in there with all that smoke. Yeesh, she would think. How much incense did one guy need?

Make that two, she thought again.

She didn't want to become in competition with Cupid. She'd heard rumors of his power, and knew for a fact that his envy was a ferocious thing. She had slept with Dio—once –and wasn't even sure Dio was even worth fighting for yet. He was a loyal one, but could be made to sway quite easily, and it didn't even seem like he had much confidence in his in character to even know which one he even wanted more—Cupid, or Phosphora.

But . . . still. When Phosphora thought of the last time she was with Dio, she'd had no complaints until she's woken up the nest morning. It was slow, it was nice, and it was everything she had needed. A nice night with someone gentle and . . . unselfish.

It was then when she was sober and in her right mind that Phosphora most longed for his touch.

 **XXX**

"Ugh. How are we supposed to get _anything_ done."

Marsh's attention snapped back to Nikki, who was pouting and giving him a very moody look.

He was tempted to give her the look right back. He was done with training these girls. All they gave him was attitude, all day long, and no respect at all!

Which, he supposed, he never gave to them in the first place either . . .

"What do you mean? We're doing plenty. We've got these weapons now—" Marsh pointed to the Crusader Blade in the corner, as well as the Blade in his own hands—"And I'm teaching you about—about basic defense—"

"Yeah, that's what we're _supposed_ to be doing," said Nikki, rolling her eyes. Marsh, meanwhile, was at a complete loss. He looked to Ella, who was standing to the side, quiet as always. She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

"Okay, fine," said Marsh, holding his gaze with Nikki's sharp orange ones. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong."

Nikki rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "You're so _distracted,_ Marsh. Seriously, you could be doing a move on me and accidentally cut my freaking arm off and you wouldn't even realize it."

"Th-that's not true!" Marsh defended, but he knew she was right. His mind had been on Pit the whole day, and before he had even walked into the empty storage room that afternoon he had known that this lesson wasn't going to be one of his best. His heart was half in it, murmuring half-thought-out instructions that he thought he had had all together that morning but kept on getting more and more muddled as the day went on. And now this. "Ella," said Marsh, turning to the blond. She blinked at him, her normally solemn eyes surprised at the mention of her name. "Do I seem distracted to you?"

Ella gave a noncommittal shrug, looked at a glaring Nikki, then gave him a more firm nod.

Marsh's shoulders were slumped. Well, there goes being a good teacher for today.

"Alright then. Session ended. Class dismissed, or whatever." Marsh waved his hand at the two girls as he jogged to the doorway. There were more important things to take care of than teaching a couple of girls. He had work to do.

 **XXX**

"Pit. Hey, Pit."

Pit lifted his head from the table. He looked around groggily, not quite understanding where he was for a moment. Then he saw Teegan sitting in a chair on the other side of the room next to a bookshelf, and Marsh looking at him suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?" Marsh asked him.

Pit turned his head slowly to the window. Though it was curtained, the sky outside of it was still visible. He'd been in there for longer than he'd imagined; the sun was already on its way to setting.

"Hey." Pit sat up and stretched. He rubbed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'what am I doing here'? Don't you know that books make the absolute best pillows?"

Marsh rolled his eyes, lingering on said book. "I would guess so, from all of that _drool_ you left on it."

Pit started, catching a glance at the tome he had fallen asleep on. He was right; in the middle of the binding lay a puddle of saliva about the size of the palm of his hand. Pit groaned. "Hope Cupid doesn't see that . . ."

"Pit, what are you doing here?" asked Marsh again. "You _hate_ to read."

"I do _not,"_ said Pit, wiping the side of his arm on his tunic. "I just . . . don't see the point in it." He looked around the room for some type of towel or something to salvage what was could be saved of the wet page. "It's too much work, and I can't make myself sit still long enough to read for long periods of time. I'm a . . . I guess I'm more of an auditory learner. At least, that's what Teegan says. And I would rather have someone read to me than do it myself, anyway."

"Then . . . why are you here?"

"I need to find a cure," Pit said, pushing himself out of his seat. "Teegan offered to help me." And, raising his voice a little, said, "Though she might be an even _bigger_ help if she didn't let me fall asleep!"

From across the room, Teegan stuck out her tongue.

Marsh frowned down at him. "I don't see why you're worried so much about this," said Marsh, putting a hand to his shoulder. "Cupid's handling things—"

"Cupid's most certainly _not_ handling things," said Pit, shrugging away from his touch. "Lady Palutena—she's only getting worse. Cupid only has time to lessen the—the pain. He doesn't have time to do research on how to fix it—"

"But—you've never done research before in your life," said Marsh. "How do you know what you're even doing?"

"Teegan's helping me," said Pit. He brushed past Marsh and made his way in the bathroom down the hall. "She told me how to use the library system, how to use the index, to look through the table of contents . . ."

"Okay, then. That's great," said Marsh, letting him through. Pit grabbed a towel and pat himself a couple of times before coming back around to the library entrance. "How long have you two been in here?"

"Since . . . nine-thirty, I think," said Pit, coming over to his table and patting the page down. He blew on it and fanned out the page, checking every so often to figure out whether the ink on the page had done any running.

"Nine-thirty?" repeated Marsh. "Don't you think you should be resting a little more?"

"I was resting."

"I mean, in a bed?"

"Look," Pit said, not turning to his twin. "Cupid says I'm doing better. But Lady Palutena's not. She's—I think she's running out of time—I mean, that's what it looks like—"

Pit's stomach clenched the way it always did whenever he talked about Lady Palutena these days. He felt the back of his eyelids stinging; he clenched at his towel. "Cupid said that I'm going to have to make a choice. That, when it comes down to it, I'm going to either have to choose between diverting my energy towards saving the Overworld, or saving her. But I don't _want_ to have to choose. That's why I'm pushing myself into doing this. Once I'm set to fly again, we're going to be spending all of our time making sure the humans are safe, and not enough time towards making sure Lady Palutena's alright. And I don't want—I mean, I don't want that to happen, obviously—"

"Well, no," said Marsh. "Obviously."

Pit sniffled, rubbing his nose on his arm. "I just— _hate_ this. The not knowing. Lady Palutena just keeps on getting worse and worse, and I don't even know what to _do,_ what to _expect."_ Pit's slow inhale was ragged, and he knew he was making a fool of himself in front of Marsh, but the stress was gnawing on him, and he didn't know how to stop. "Lord Zeus got infected right before the Chaos Kin had gotten to Lady Palutena. She could be _gone_ any moment now—"

"Pit, stop—"

"But I _can't,"_ said Pit, shoving the book away from him. "Nobody remembers the last time the Kin even attacked the gods and not the humans. The last time it got out, it went straight for the—the bigger prey. The last person who we know got infected was Lord Zeus, and he's _dead._ There's no _history_ on this thing! Just rumors and myths and-and speculation!"

The room was still, as if it were holding its breath. Pit didn't remember feeling so stressed in his life, so utterly helpless. He was crying now, not bothering to hide it, because somehow just crying felt incredibly good. He wanted release, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to see his matron goddess better again. The conflict between what his heart wanted and what his body needed pulled at him and released itself like a religious cleanse. He looked across the table at Marsh, red eyed and his face tearstained even though a towel lay right next to him. He gazed back at him silently, eyes steady, no judgement at all.

He gave one last sniffle, feeling embarrassed but also a whole lot better. "I don't know how to fix this. It seems impossible, Pittoo, and I don't know—I'm scared . . ."

"Then be scared," said Marsh. "Nobody's telling you can't be. But keep the mission in mind, and whatever it takes to get it done." He stood up and walked over to where he sat. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Three days."

"This your third day?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, get up." When Pit continued to sit, sniffling, Marsh grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up manually.

"Hey—what're you doing—"

"You need to sleep," said Marsh. "You're not going to be able to do anything while you're crying all over the place—"

"But—dinner—"

"I'll bring you some," said Marsh. "And I'll help you, too, with the research and stuff. You got me? And if we don't find anything in Cupid's libraries, then we'll scour the earth. We'll become wind spirits, we'll ask Magnus if he knows of anything. We'll go undercover and search the libraries of Overworld, and if they don't have the answer, then we'll look for it by foot. We'll trade and haggle like pirates, bargaining with scholars and magicians with the knowledge of how to beat this thing—"

"I wanna be a pirate," said Pit woozily.

"Okay, then we'll be pirates," said Marsh, a small smile forming on his face. The two made their way out of the library, past the kitchen and up towards the dormitories. "But—just remember this, alright? That no matter what, we'll find some way to save her. Alright, Pit? You got me?" Pit didn't make a sound, and Marsh felt him get heavier as the angel drifted off to sleep. By the time he got him to bed, the angel was snoring. With a grunt, Marsh tossed his twin into bed, but he was pretty sure Pit would've been alright on the floor. That kid could sleep anywhere.

 **XXX**

Back turned from the doorway, the God of Wine and Occasional Great Feasts was cleaning, washing dishes from lunch. Phosphora lingered, wondering how she should make her goodbyes, or, if she should make them at all. Because, whether she liked it or not, out of all of the people who resided there at Cupid's Palace, she knew she would miss Dio's company the most.

Now, balancing on the threshold of her emotions, she couldn't decide whether she wanted to make that final step.

That step into the unknown. Because if she let herself— _fall_ for him, who knew who could happen? The gods didn't fall in love, not like this. Whatever became of them could have grave circumstances, not just for them but for the entire pantheon of divinities who existed.

But they could also be great together . . .

"Phosphora, I don't know how long you plan on standing there watching me, but if you want, you could come in and help."

Phosphora blinked, her face heating up. Dio didn't turn around. _Coy bastard,_ she thought then.

—or maybe, he was just busy.

It certainly wasn't his fault that Dio was involved with Cupid the way he was, Phosphora thought sporadically. The god _did_ give him divine powers, and trained him in them. Dio probably had nowhere else to go beyond living at Cupid's Palace and serving as his cook.

 _What a crap deal,_ Phosphora thought, suddenly angry.

"Phosphora?" Dio turned then, giving her that adorable half smile that teased.

The Lightning Goddess exhaled and braced herself. _Approach with caution_ , she thought then.

"I wanted to talk to you," Phosphora said, joining him at the sink. He was in the middle of scrubbing something. She grabbed a hold of a plate that was waiting to be dried.

"Yes?"

"We—Marsh and I—we're going to be leaving in the morning." There. There goes the bandage. She watched as Dio's shoulders visibly sank, and her analogy of him being like a German Shepherd—panting, always lusting for more—strengthened.

"You will be? Oh. Well. That's too bad." Dio handed her a dish to be rinsed off; Phosphora complied.

 _This is so unfair,_ thought Phosphora then, putting the dish aside. _He deserves better!_

"Come with me," she said abruptly, and Dio looked at her in surprise. She looked at him dead on, electric-blue eyes serious. "You're not appreciated here, you're not appreciated by Cupid. This is a half-life of an existence, especially as a god. You could come live at the Hanging Gardens. You wouldn't have to cook or clean anymore—we already have the Forces of Nature to do that for us." Her voice began to tremble. "Come live with us. Viridi, Arlon, Marsh—all of us. You wouldn't have to cook or clean anymore—we have the Forces of Nature to do that. We'd love to have you. I'd—"

She paused, suddenly embarrassed. She thought of the way she thought of him standing in the courtyard just hours ago, and wavered at the precipice.

"Phosphora," Dio breathed, his violet eyes more solemn than she'd ever seen them before. "Do you want me there with you?"

Phosphora open her mouth, then closed it, trying to get her heart to calm. Because she did want him there, with her, more than she ever wanted to admit aloud. It was just so hard to fall in love, at times. So hard, especially for a god.

"Yes," she said.

That was all the confirmation he needed. Afterwards, Phosphora held onto the details—his nose pressed against her skin, his curly hair pressing up against her forehead—and the way he said her name, over and over again, like a treasure to be protected, to be cherished, to be worshipped.

 **XXX**

"Hey—where's the other one?"

Marsh rolled his eyes. "He's asleep," he said to the God of Love.

Cupid frowned and walked over towards him. "What do you mean, he's 'asleep'? We were just about to test out to see if his wings still worked today—"

"I know," Marsh interrupted. "But I found Pit inside the library, trying to find a way to cure Palutena, stressing himself out and crying." He gave Cupid a hard look. "He thinks it's up to _him_ to find a cure. If Palutena dies, then he's going to believe it's because he didn't _try_ hard enough."

Cupid gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "Well. Props to him for holding on to hope for thislong."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I _mean,_ that if you've gone to visit Palutena in the past few days, you would know that she _definitely_ doesn't have long left. She's mentally _handicapped,_ for goddess' sake. She's slipping away faster than I can keep up with her, and it's all I can do to not tell Pit not to go up and visit her anymore." He thrust his fingers through his hair. "Because, for some _insane_ reason, seeing Palutena sick like this gives him some kind of motivation. It's tragic and just a little nauseating."

"Pit's different," said Marsh, looking to the ground. "And he cares about her. He won't let a few changes in her behavior affect his view about her. Maybe—I don't know, maybe seeing her act out of sorts gives him the reassurance that he's not putting his faith in something that's completely useless. It helps him continue his search for a cure, and I'm not going to pass judgement on that."

"I'm not judging him on it," said Cupid. "I'm just saying that his faith is rather _pointless."_

"What do you mean—"

"I mean that—" Cupid passed a weary hand over his face. "I mean that her aura is depleting."

"What do you mean, her aura is depleting?" Marsh demanded. "She's a god, isn't she?"

" _Goddesses_ , Marsh, you were there at Zeus' funeral, weren't you?" replied Cupid. "She's a god, yes-but gods die. We all know that now. We all can feel it. Palutena—she's dying. And there's nothing we can do about it."

Marsh stared at him for a long time, gauging to see whether or not he was telling the truth. At last, Marsh figured that he was. "Have you told Pit any of this?"

Cupid scoffed. "No," he replied, and Marsh threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "What? Would _you_ like to do the honors, then, oh _brave_ angel? 'Hey, Pit, your matron goddess is dying. It's either death by starvation, or death through excessive brain damage—'"

"Stop," said Marsh, cringing visibly. "I don't want to hear this."

"But it's true," said Cupid ruthlessly. "So I'd start hoping that that disease quickens its way through her brain so she wouldn't have to go through such an agonizing death." Cupid crossed his arms. "Better that Pit remembers Palutena this way before she begins to start acting any worse."

Marsh wanted to punch him. He wanted to make sure that Cupid wouldn't be able to smile again without looking absolutely and completely destitute. He wanted to keep those teeth and tuck them in his room somewhere, to take them out and smile and remember the time when he had punched out the teeth of a god who had pushed him just a _bit_ too far one day.

But, more than that, he had to trust him. He had to trust that he was, in actuality, Pit and Palutena's best hope in this situation, even though it was looking like he wasn't doing shit at the moment. Or else, Marsh was sure he would go out of his mind with worry.

Because that's all that was keeping him here, really. He was concerned about Pit, about Pit being there with _Cupid,_ the pervert. But he had to let go. He had to be useful, where Pit was lacking. He had to leave him be, even if that meant Pit wandered these halls alone and crying over his newly-abusive goddess that he probably cared way, way too much for.

So for once, Marsh swallowed his pride and deferred to the God of Love.

"I'm leaving," he said. "I'm not useful up here anymore. I shouldn't have stayed so long."

"Oh?" said Cupid, an eyebrow arching up high on his face. "And what _grand_ plans do you have for the future?"

"I'm going to help diffuse the threat on the Overworld," said Marsh. "I can't beat the dragon yet, but I can still help out. Arlon's necklaces make me fireproof. I can still help some forces of nature put out some fires—save some villagers in the process, hopefully, though I don't think Viridi will approve of that."

"No, I don't think she will. But she'll appreciate the effort, I'm sure." Cupid peered close to him, though Marsh was pointedly looking in a completely different direction. "I think you're making the right decision."

"I don't care what you think."  
"That may be true, but I think what you're doing is brave. You want to stay here, I can see it. But going out there is the better decision, I think. Pit doesn't need you as much as you may think."

Marsh swallowed, daring to say the worst. "A-And if Palutena dies . . .?"

Cupid looked away. "Well . . . that hasn't happened yet. So . . . maybe you shouldn't think about that so much."

Marsh snorted. "Yeah, okay then. I'll just push it from my mind, then." He sighed, turning to face the god again. "Just, do me favor? Keep me updated, on Palutena and Pit both. I'm going to see if I can see if I can find out who The One Who Will Turn the Earth guy is, and hopefully some Overworld libraries will have some information on the Chaos Mark when I do."

Cupid nodded sagely.

Marsh didn't look at Cupid as walked away. He hoped, still that he was making the right choice. But it was time to do something. He couldn't just sit here and wait, even though that's all Pit was able to do.

"Marsh, are you going to tell Pit that you're leaving?"

The angel paused. "No, I—I don't think so. No. I think I'll just leave first thing in the morning, with Phosphora."

No, that would be much, much too hard.

 **XXX**

 **A/N: Cupid's an ass. What have I created? :-/**

 **Trying to create shorter chapters. Next one will be up soon.**

 **Thanks again to all who have stuck it out with me so far :) You all are awesome, I don't say it enough.**


	23. The Spirits of Peace

_**"Pyrrhon senses danger. And now... Pyrrhon sees it."—**_ **Pyrrhon, in Chapter 15**

* * *

Early the next morning, Pit defied his twin's expectations and went to go visit Lady Palutena.

 _This is not me being a masochist,_ he told himself, and if Marsh caught him on the way to Palutena's room upstairs then that was what he would say to him too. He knew that whatever version of Palutena he would encounter on that day wouldn't be any version he was familiar with. Her memory was like sand in a sift, in and out until someone could go in and cover the holes. He was not looking for any sort of apology from her about what had happened those days previous, no matter what it looked like.

No, he was there for the truth.

Coming around the corner to the door, Pit halted and peeked his head in silently. Teegan was there, probably the only one of Cupid's servants able to tend to Palutena's fever attentively and patiently. He watched as she placed a glass tube in the goddess' mouth and lay the back of her hand to her forehead to check her temperature. She asked Palutena if she needed any more pillows or if she needed more cool rags to help level her temperature. Teegan was gentle, as gentle as she was with Pit when he had first come to Cupid's Palace after being struck by lightning. And it hurt Pit to admit it—that Teegan was probably the best caretaker Palutena could hope for at the moment.

Walking into the room a bit further, he leaned his head on the wall opposite. There was something different about today that had led him to talk to Palutena. He didn't know why, but he felt as though he were being spurred on by a sense of urgency that he couldn't ignore for a second longer.

Even so, he wasn't completely sure if she would be in her right mind. Despite what Cupid said, Pit knew the truth. Lady Palutena wasn't getting better. Nothing that Cupid was doing was working.

It wasn't as if he didn't think that nothing could be done. But he wondered secretly if this disease was more his goddess' fault than the natural order of things.

Deep in thought, he hadn't even noticed when Teegan withdrew from the room and rendered Palutena alone. He almost jumped at the voice that called him in.

"Pit? Pit, I know you're lurking in the shadows over there somewhere."

Pit took a deep breath and stepped into the light.

One thing he liked about Palutena's guest room was the view. She had a sprawling, wide window at the right side of it, that led out to a fantastic view of Cupid's courtyard and waterfall garden. Puffy white clouds dotted the skies beyond, giving Pit a drought of hope to draw from each time he was feeling low and decided to visit her. Looking at the room's view, he couldn't help but wonder where that feeling of hope had gone, but he figured he shouldn't be surprised that it had disappeared, after previous events.

"How are you feeling?" Pit ventured. He couldn't look at her, not yet. The few innocent words he had managed to get out were hard enough to get out on their own.

Palutena sighed, casting a look to the side, and Pit wondered if she remembered anything at all. Because even without Cupid's prognosis of the day he knew what Palutena's state of mind should be. "Not sure," Palutena said, and Pit couldn't decide whether the answer was honest or not. "I'm sleeping a lot, to be honest. I don't even ask when Cupid comes in to track my progress. Teegan—she's been a great help. She's always coming in to feel my temperature, close the window if I want it. Though she didn't ask this time—it's beginning to get quite warm in here—"

"Got it," said Pit, getting up to close the window. The warm breeze stopped, and the curtains fluttered still.

"Thank you," said Palutena. Pit drew back to her side, his movements stiff and jerky.

 _She doesn't know,_ he though in anguish. _She doesn't remember what happened._ And he didn't know whether to feel relieved about this or not. He felt as though he should be angry with her. But he had never been angry before in his life.

"Pit, something is bothering you," said Palutena. He still didn't look at her. "Say what's on your mind, please."

Pit looked down at her covers. "It's just . . . I keep on thinking about Cupid." Though he did think about Cupid—it wasn't what he was thinking about the most, nor at that particular moment. He simply used it as an excuse. _That's not a lie, is it?_ Pit tried to qualify it in his mind. "You trust him—you keep on telling me to trust him too. You say he's doing all he can to help you, but whenever I ask him about you, he's so guarded. I feel like—he's hiding something from me, and—I don't know, from all of us, too."

Palutena was silent for a few beats. Eventually, she said, "He might be shielding you from the truth."

Pit snorted. "I don't think that a guy like Cupid would care about shielding others from the truth."

"You sometimes forget, though," said Palutena quietly, "that he has a heart, too."

"I know that," said Pit solemnly, casting her with a look. "But I don't know if I can say that about everybody."

Palutena glanced away, not saying anything directly after that. It was then that Pit was able to get a good look at his goddess, or at least, brave enough to do so without her really noticing. She looked whiter than usual; pale, sickly. It made his heart lurch.

"I have a feeling that we're not talking about Cupid at all," she said at last.

"We're not," said Pit dully.

Palutena shook her head as if clearing away her thoughts in there. She didn't know where to start, but that should've been easy. She should start with the truth, and her hesitation made it seem like she wasn't going to start there at all. Pit spoke up then, before she could do anymore hiding.

"You spoke to me a couple of nights ago," he said, "about destroying the Gemini. I don't know if they have even done anything against you, but what they might have done in the past has nothing to do with you now. You can't expect me to correct your mistakes, Palutena. Not all of them."

"You're right," said Palutena, for once her pride non-existent.

"And right now," said Pit hesitantly, "Cupid is the least of my problems."

Palutena pursed her lips. "They came to me in a dream," said the goddess, "except, it wasn't a dream at all. It was a projection, and I saw Pollux in all his pent-up anger. He blamed me . . . for his brother's death. And I accepted that."

"When was this?"

"Not two weeks ago," said Palutena ruefully. "I should've told you . . ."

"And was it your fault?" asked Pit. "His brother's death?"

"Yes . . . and no," said Palutena slowly. Pit looked at her expectantly. Palutena didn't budge.

"Stop that," said Pit, his voice rising. "You can't keep on doing that to me-carting me around and expect me to just "go with it". Because I don't even know who I can trust anymore—you know? Cupid is . . . he's the least of my problems."

"Sometimes trust is a one-way street," muttered Palutena. "It is brave to hold onto a faith though everything seems hopeless. You feel as though you aren't getting all of the answers, and that all your trust is for nothing."

 _How could she?_ He thought in distress. _How could she say something like that? Talking about "having a heart" when she could have been responsible for someone's brother's death? And I don't know for how much longer I can keep this up any more,_ he thought with finality, _this-this charade, for a goddess that does nothing but lie to me._

"What am I trusting, then?" said Pit tersely. "What am I holding on to? You? Because—" he scoffed, "we both know that that's a joke right about now."

Palutena looked bewildered. He didn't care. She didn't know how much she had hurt him—not just that week, but with the revelation of a thousand lies not being told to him.

"If Pollux came to you in a dream or whatever, how do we know it wasn't him who gave you the Chaos Mark?" he asked.

"It's not his fault," said Palutena. "But he said . . . that I deserved to succumb to its fate."

"Do you?"

Palutena hesitated. "He wants me dead."

"Then give me a reason," said Pit. "Give me a reason to—to keep on believing in you. Give me something, at least—that everything that you've been doing has been for some—some ultimate purpose, at least, and not because you didn't want anyone to know about your mistakes—"

"Not me," she replied. "Don't believe in me." Palutena looked up to the ceiling, looking as if she was trying to keep tears out of her eyes. "We gods—we're just as infallible as humans, you know. Don't believe in me. Believe in yourself. In your future."

Pit blinked up at her, words dying before they could even reach his lips."You've already heard bits and pieces of it. It's your prophecy, Pit."

He felt as if he couldn't breathe. Nothing would have prepared him for this. He wondered if dealing with an-an unhinged goddess would've been better than the complete restructuring that he was being forced to adopt.

"There was –an accident once," the Light Goddess said. "And I made a mistake. I was left to decide the fate of two boys when their caretaker died. Their caretaker—it was Medusa, just like how you came to live under my care all those years ago." Palutena looked down then, her eyes burning with tears. "You don't want me to decide your future for you, Pit. I sentenced those boys to a fate more horrible than I can say. A mistake, but—one I don't wish to repeat. I told them that I had destroyed Medusa, and now Pollux—blames me for her death and for the death of his brother, too." She paused. "That's why I've kept so much from you. I wanted you to decide for yourself how you wanted your future to be like-"

"But I don't know anything! You keep on leaving me suspended, unable to take control of this— _secret destiny_ I have all of a sudden—"

"If you had known all what you were meant for, right here, right now, I'm afraid—I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"You can't know that," said Pit. "Knowing the truth would be—would be better than being left in the dark."

Palutena shook her head solemnly. "I know you're not ready, because I wasn't ready. Take this as a lesson learned, Pit—and never let your ego decide your decisions for you." She reached for one of his hands, resting on the bedspread as they were. "Above all, I wanted you to trust in yourself, in your capacity for change, and not in me or my decisions."

Still, Pit couldn't look at her, his emotions so out of order and all over the place. The goddess had indeed told him a lot—but there was still so much that she hadn't said, too.

"Tell me," said Pit, his eyes closed. "Tell me the Prophecy."

Palutena frowned. "I can't. There's too much, and I don't even know it all."

"You've got to be kidding me," Pit groaned.

"I'm not," said Palutena said, her voice biting. "But the Spirits . . . they know it. They can help you restore Peace, if you really are the Winged One." She closed her eyes. "' _The Spirits will find him, and he will confront the One Who Will Turn the Earth. He will be called the Winged One, and through him all of Skyworld and Overworld will become fully restored . . ._ _No light will be able to drive off the Chaos, but only the Spirits of Peace will be able to banish it for good.'"_ She opened her eyes. "The Winged One. We think it's you."

"Who's we?"

"Cupid and I. Viridi . . . she doesn't know."

"I think she should," Pit said. Because why did that slimeball Cupid get to know something that Viridi couldn't?

"She probably should. But Cupid only knew because . . . well, he was the first angel."

"You both thought it was him," said Pit, eyes widening.

"Yes," said Palutena. "That is, until we realized that none of the signs were present. We figured, then, that the Spirits might have gotten it wrong. That they . . . had picked the wrong person to be the Winged One. Which is – incredible that we would think that, only it seemed to be the only explanation. Cupid was delighted. He didn't have to fulfill any Prophecy or become any sort of 'Winged One'. He petitioned to be a god, and succeeded. Then we knew that he couldn't have been what the Prophecy had been talking about. And then I had found you," said Palutena tenderly. "And we knew then that the Spirits had gotten it right this time."

"Who're the Spirits?"

"They're called the Spirits of Peace," she replied. "They dictate what's to come to pass. They write the Prophecies. They control fate. But right now, they're lost." She turned to the side. "I think they might be in the Underworld, but even after Medusa took control of it, it is a vast place with places left uncharted - -"

"I'll go there," said Pit, standing up resolutely.

"You can't," said Palutena, her eyes wide. "I don't even know the way—and Pollux—"

"I don't care," said Pit. "I _have_ to know- don't you see? I have to know what I was created for. I need to find the Spirits, so that they can tell me what I need to do." He balled his hands together. "And nothing you can do can stop me, anymore."

Palutena looked down. Pit willed himself not to care, to notice the level of defeat that levelled on her shoulders right then and there. The damage was done. The truth was out. The Winged One knew.

"You're him," Palutena said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was like he wasn't even in the room anymore. For a moment, Pit thought Palutena was going through one of her phases again—but then she spoke again and her voice was clear, unhampered. Still—her words both frightened him and exhilarated him. "You have to be. There have been so many crazy things that have happened—these things must be the signs. It has to be you. It has to be."

When Palutena looked up at him again, Pit never felt more terrified in his life. Her eyes foretold a burden and a responsibility that he wasn't sure he would be fit to carry.

"When you finally confront Pollux, make sure you don't tell him the truth."

"Th-the truth about what?"

Palutena didn't reply right away. The truth seemed to be lodged in her somehow, unable to break the horrible silence around them. Pit held his breath, but when she finally responded, he couldn't believe how ignorant he'd been after all this time.

"That it was you who killed Medusa," she said. "Because . . . because if they're going to blame any one for their caretaker's death, then it should be me, not you."

* * *

Guilt. He didn't know how ugly a feeling could feel until that moment.

And really, how could he be so blind? The only person who had been able to traverse the Underworld and manage to defeat Medusa all of those years ago had been . . . him. And Pit didn't know who he was angrier at-his goddess, or himself.

His goddess, because, well-it had been _her_ who had sent him off to destroy Medusa in the first place. Sure, she was being held captive, but _still._ She had been withholding information from him about Pollux and Castor and that was low, beyond low.

And himself, because . . . because in the end, it was _him_ who had actually taken Medusa away from them.

The further away from Palutena's room he got, the more wretched Pit began to feel. More and more he began to blame himself-not just with taking Medusa away from those who depended on her, but for lashing out at Palutena in the first place.

He was so selfish! _-_ demanding information from Palutena that wasn't hers to give in the first place. She had _chosen_ to take the fall for him-with Medusa's death and accepted the resulting consequences of that. But he was so myopic-pushing Palutena into a corner even though she had done so _much-_

At the second flight of stairs he was running. He didn't want to see any one; he wanted to be alone. But as fate would have it, nothing could keep him from confrontation.

Not looking at where he was going, he plowed headfirst into Marsh. The two collided and went sprawling to the ground, where Pit wiped at his eyes and Marsh, his forehead.

"Pit!" His eyes were a mix of surprise and terror. "What the hell?"

"Marsh!" Pit said, his eyes filling with tears. "I think I'm turning into you!"

"Huh?" Marsh said, rising to his feet before him. "What do you mean by that?!"

"I—I just talked to Lady Palutena," Pit said, looking down at the ground. "I bullied her into telling me about the Winged One. I think it's me, Marsh. And I think she hates me for making her tell the truth!"

"You deserve to know the truth," Marsh said. "And if anything, you should be ecstatic that you're turning into me."

Pit had enough of his twin's bloated ego. "Marsh . . . "

"I mean it," Marsh replied, helping his brother from the ground and pushing him towards the very stairs that he just came from. "If anything you've been bullied by _her—_ especially these past couple of days."

"Don't say that!" exclaimed Pit, letting him push him, even though by the time they made it to the stairs, he felt like he was going to slip at any moment and fall flat on his face. "You _know_ that wasn't her!"

"We'll talk later," muttered Marsh, full sprint by then. Pit wished he would slow down; these floors were marble and easy to slip on. "We've got more important things to focus on!"

"What's happened?" The angel spun his twin around to face him. "Marsh, talk to me!"

"There's no time! Cupid needs us at the landing platform, pronto!"

"What? Why?" Pit said, utterly confused. "Am I going to see if my wings are healed up again?"

"Hopefully," Marsh said, sense of urgency now turning to worry. "If they aren't then we're _definitely_ going to have a problem." At Pit's frightened gaze, he continued, "You know how Phosphora has been here for the past few days? Yeah, well, both she _and_ Viridi forgot that she was supposed to be babysitting Palutena's Temple during that time."

Pit could barely hear what he was saying. "You're not saying—"

"No, I'm saying. Palutena's Temple is under attack."

Pit's heart was to his throat now. _H_ _ome. Not again . . . "_ By who?" he asked, afraid of the answer. "Who could possibly be attacking the Underworld? All of the possible threats—we've—"

"Yeah, you think so, but you'd be surprised. Apparently the Underworld is in control again by someone who shouldn't be there, because Palutena's Temple . . . it's under siege. By Underworld Forces."


	24. The God Who Hated Gods

**_"My wish would be to fly by myself!" -_** **Pit** ** _(Chapter 10)_**

* * *

"Great planning, guys. Really. Fantastic."

"We have _no time_ for your sarcasm today, Viridi," snapped Cupid. "This was all of our faults . . . _especially_ yours."

Marsh wasn't at all surprised that Viridi had been called in to help, but it wasn't like he was happy to see her right then and there either. The whole room was tense as the two gods waited for the young angels to prepare for battle, the strain of the past couple of weeks showing itself in their respective tempers.

Viridi balled her fists, stepping forward. "You—you have _no idea_ what it's been like for me lately!"

Marsh cringed, but he didn't dare try and contradict her. He knew that Viridi was strained—in part, because of him. Usually, he would be in the Overworld to try and help with managing the Forces of Nature, but now Viridi had to do it all herself, probably all the way in Hanging Gardens, or on the Overworld by herself, which was dangerous. He figured that Phosphora had been helping in her own way, but he knew that he and Phosphora were often given completely different tasks to carry out at any given time. It didn't help that he and her had been at Cupid's lately, either . . .

"You think it's been picnics everyday over here?" Cupid asked her, his voice dangerous and low. "Palutena's been _sick,_ remember? And all we've been doing is trying to find a way for her to get better –"

"Oh yeah? How is she now?" Viridi cocked an eyebrow at him."Nothing? You mean—she's still sick?"

"This—this isn't like anything that we've ever seen!" Pit said, oddly coming to Cupid's defense. He was at Cupid's *scrying glass, equipping *powers. "Palutena's ill with something that none of us has ever had prior experience with. You _know_ this."

"Whatever." She turned away in a huff, not wanting to admit, probably, that Pit was correct. "I'm just saying, it's not just my fault that Palutena's place got left unguarded."

"Right," muttered Cupid, "because it wasn't _your_ job to make Phosphora stay in place and protect Palutena's Temple, or anything . . ."

"Alright, enough!" yelled Pit, stepping in between the two. Marsh was surprised that he had gotten between them in time, because the nature goddess seemed mad enough to harm. "You two need to work together and get out your aggressive/passive aggressive tendencies _later."_

"He's right," Cupid complied, a seething green-eyed glare still pointed in her direction. "Palutena's life force is tied to her Temple, just like any god's. Us standing here isn't doing anything to help her."

"We may not have much time," Marsh agreed—for once. "Especially with Palutena as sick as she's been—"

"Alright, alright, I get it," interrupted Viridi, as was her custom. She glanced over to Pit imperiously. "Hey, Chicken Legs. Are you ready to go?"

"I think so," said Pit. "Will we be—" He hesitated. "Will we be flying?"

"We're going to have to do Air Battle, so yeah," said Viridi, looking at him warily. "Are you going to be okay?"

The angel didn't reply right away. Marsh felt like he could guess what was making him hesitate. Pit was so used to flying with Palutena as his guide, he got uncomfortable at the thought of someone else activating his Power of Flight.

That, and the fact that the last time Pit was out and flying, he had been struck by lightning.

"Don't worry," said Marsh, nudging him slightly. Pit looked at him, his eyes wide, a Samurai Blade clutched tight to his chest. He hated what he was about to say next, but . . . "You can have Viridi help you fly."

"Really?" Pit's eyes were nearly wet with relief. It made sense, really, that Pit would be more comfortable with her, since Viridi had helped Pit fly before. "Thanks."

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Cupid said, wagging his finger at the two of them. Marsh held his tongue. He wasn't a child! "I'm perfectly capable of helping him fly!"

"Yeah, well I'm sure you can do just as well with me as you can with him." Marsh equipped a pair of Arlon Orbitars, to better complement his twin's Blade.

"Just because the last time I tried helping Pit fly he was unconscious, _doesn't_ mean that I'm incapable!" Cupid said snootily.

"Yeah, yeah, just suck it up, alright?" said Viridi. She crossed her arms. " _I'm_ fine with it, and we all know the _real_ reason you want to help Pit fly."

Cupid relented reluctantly, while Pit adjusted his sword strap nervously, making it his goal to not give the others in the room a second glance. Well, thought Marsh, Pit didn't know, but maybe that was for the best.

The Nature Goddess looked over at the boys. "Are you two ready yet?"

Marsh looked sideways at Pit, who was still looking nervous. There was no way of telling whether his wings were working since the lightning incident, but they had to try.

Pit caught his eye. "Will you go first?"

"Sure," he replied without thought, because what if Pit's wings didn't work after all?

"I mean, we can still go to battle together, it's just—I don't know what's going to happen, you know? And I mean—I haven't been out since—last Wednesday?"

Marsh had seen Pit scared before, but this something different. His voice caught, his eyes were wide, and his breathing came out in short, shallowed bursts—and he knew he wasn't just moderately fearful, but straight out terrified. He had only seen him look this way once before, really, facing an opponent that was just as unpredictable as a summer storm—when they were inthe forest, all that time ago, going in deep into the Overworld to find Pyrrhon. Because it wasn't the god that Pit had been anticipating, but the fire that had been all around them—a more formidable enemy than all of the Underworld forces in the universe.

What was it about Mother Nature than made his brother so jumpy?

Marsh blinked, looking at the light angel beside him. _His brother._ He wasn't sure when he had started calling him that, but he thought that it fit. After choosing to stay with him these past few days, as shortsighted as that move had been, he was almost sure that he was almost the type of person that Pit deserved to call his sibling.

And, he sort of liked the way it sounded, even if it was just in his head.

"I've got you," he said, and Pit gave him the barest of smiles.

* * *

The doors flung open, and Pit watched his brother leap.

It wasn't until then that he realized how much guts it took for someone to willingly throw themselves forward without any sight of ground anywhere. And really, who said that fearlessness was at all a good idea? Cupid's Palace itself was _miles_ away from the Overworld, hovering in the sky without tether, and the only thing that was going to keep him from crashing into the ground below was his powerless wings and the Power that made them glide . . .

That is, if they even worked after the Lightning accident?

"Come on, Pit, just jump!"

Oh, right. And his twin.

Pit dashed up to the precipice and leaped, arms outspread. He had a gut wrenching moment during those first few milliseconds of freefall, poignant enough to make him barf. _Come on, Viridi!_ He said silently. _Work your stuff-!_

Like a saving grace, the Power of Flight surged through the bones of his wings, and he let out a breath that he hadn't even known he was heart returned to speeds regular enough to be counted sane, and he grinned.

 _"_ Woo-hoo-hooo! _"_ cheered Marsh, flying like a gnat around him. "They work, Pit! They work! _"_

 _They work. They really do,_ Pit thought, and he laughed. Albeit the sound was slightly manic—he _had_ been nervous enough to barf —but it was a laugh nonetheless. He had missed this.

 _So much._

 _"_ _What a relief,"_ sighed Cupid. _"I didn't know if there would be permanent damage or not."_

"Yeah," agreed Pit, and he did a half loop-de-loop in the air. "Thanks, Viridi."

" _Ah, it was nothing,"_ Viridi replied, but he knew she was blushing.

"Right. I should be thanking Cupid, too," Pit said, a warm feeling spreading in the base of his chest. "Without you and your potions, none of this would be possible."

Cupid was stunned. " _I—I—"_

"Wow, who would've believed it? _"_ called Marsh. _"_ A speechless Cupid?"

Pit and Marsh laughed at that, and Viridi gave a snort. _Oh, what I would pay to see Cupid's face right now,_ thought Pit gleefully _._ Cupid, flabbergasted and red, from an _actual_ compliment!

In fact, Pit didn't think he'd felt in such high spirits since the week before, when he and Palutena had been flying the skies together in pursuit of Zeus' Temple, before the Lightning incident. Suddenly he felt light as a bird, and a surging bubble of hope flooded both body and mind.

"Where to, Cupid?" asked Pit, and he did a barrel-roll to the side. He careened straight into Marsh, however, and the angel gave him a dirty glare, whacking him on the side with one of his Orbitars.

"Ouch!" groaned Pit, rubbing his shoulder. "Marsh, we haven't even entered battle yet, and I'm down to 95 percent!"

"Too bad," grumbled Marsh. "Watch where you're flying!"

" _You two, don't fight_ ," barked Viridi. " _We have a mission to accomplish, don't forget that."_

 _"_ Wow, you sounded a lot like Palutena right then, you know that?" Marsh pointed out. "I guess you could say she's growing on you."

" _Geez, I can't get away with anything, can I?"_ Viridi complained _. "I have a_ heart, _you know!"_

 _"_ I guess I forgot the gods still had those."

" _Ha-ha. You're hilarious."_ Viridi sighed. " _I do miss her, though."_

" _We all do,"_ Cupid said staunchly. " _So let's get down there, and see what's bringing these Underworlders where they don't belong."_

 _"_ _Hold up, Cupid,"_ said Viridi, catching something in the skies that he hadn't spotted yet. " _We've got enemies in the air to take care of, first."_

The more the pair moved down to the Overworld surface, the more Underworld forces they could see. High up where they were they were, the Underworlders acted more like lazy mall guards, knowing they had a job to do but not doing a very good job of doing it. They were spread out and meandered in every which way, unorganized and unaware of the two angels coming to greet them.

"Awwww yeah!" called out Marsh loudly. "Let's show these baddies what we're here for!"

That certainly got some of the Army their attention, though with Marsh, Pit wasn't worried. Going in for a melee attack, Pit sliced and diced through Miks and Monoeyes while Marsh took the back seat, taking out various Remoblams and Remoblamlings before they got to close.

"Headshot! Headshot! _"_ shouted Marsh over the explosions of the Forces.

" _Marsh, Remoblams and Remoblamlings are literally giant eyes,"_ Viridi said. " _What you should be saying is 'eyeshot', not 'headshot'."_

 _"_ Obviously," said Pit, a tinge of laughter on his voice.

" _Obviously,"_ Viridi reiterated.

"Eyeshot! Eyeshot!" Marsh yelled.

" _I'm going to be taking you down closer to the ground,"_ called Cupid. " _Viridi here'll do the same. We want to get at the epicenter, and scatter their forces."_

 _"_ _Good idea,"_ conceded Viridi. " _The enemies down here look a lot harder, so be prepared."_

 _"_ Gotcha," said Pit, letting his wings take him towards another surge of enemies.

By now, they could see Palutena's Temple—or at least, what Pit and company could make of it. The force field that should have been protecting the land mass was down for the count, and various unnatural creatures had taken advantage of that. Armins, Paramushes and Trailtails littered the campus—and that was just on the ground!

 _"_ _Belunka ahead!"_ shouted Viridi. " _Keep an eye out—kill it before the other monsters are released!"_

 _"_ Viridi—do you know how _hard_ it is taking down a Belunka?" quipped Pit. He and his brother both stared down the giant green whale thing as it bobbed before them.

" _I know, I know,"_ Viridi replied, and if Pit didn't know any better, he would've thought that she sounded rather _worried._ " _But I read up on them before the battle, okay? If you kill it before it opens its mouth, you don't have to destroy all of the other monsters!"_

 _"_ Yeah, but you forgot one thing," said Marsh, "that the Belunka's only weakness _is_ when it opens it's mouth!"

" . . . _oh_ ," Viridi said.

The angels braced themselves. The Belunka roared, rearing his ugly inner self. Monoeyes and Specknoses floated right on by, and Pit went in for battle.

"Too easy!" yelled Pit, another Monoeye down for the count.

 _"_ _This isn't Super Smash Bros. Brawl, Pit,"_ Cupid drawled, sounding bored. " _Get some new catchphrases, would you?"_

 _"_ _Never!"_ Pit said, avoiding a flying Shrip.

"Pit, watch out!" shouted Marsh, his Orbitars on the Shrips that had just spun past his brother, but his eye on the Splin careening towards him. Pit spun around, too late—sustaining damage.

" _They're multiplying—fast!"_

Viridi was right. It was news to her, but both Marsh and Pit knew that Splins were easy to destroy if defeated right away. Otherwise, they split faster than anything they'd ever experienced before—and where before they only had two Splins to worry about, they now had about ten.

"Marsh—!" Pit yelped, finding himself surrounded by balls of green rimmed with nasty spikes.

"Got you," said Marsh to himself, not quite loud enough for Pit to hear. But that was okay, since he had been at enough of a distance to take down the Belunka that still posed a threat, and was safe enough to take down the spiny Splins before they got to close to Pit. The two worked in tandem, Pit keeping a wary eye on the Splins surrounding him, dashing left and right while Marsh used his Orbitars to maximum power. It was almost impossible shooting while not hitting Pit in the process, but miraculously the enemies thinned out and Pit was able to hold his own. The lighter angel took down the second to last Splin and Marsh took out the last one, and the two were just barely able to smile at one another before the first Belunka and _another_ one behind it roared and notified them of their presence.

" _Enough lolly-gagging, you two!"_ Cupid called. " _Get out there and fight!"_

 _"_ _You two aren't even through with round three yet,"_ said Viridi. " _Has it really been so long?"_

 _"_ Yes," muttered Marsh, wiping out a Specknose and a Monoeye in quick succession. "Cut us some slack."

" _Not an option, Angel-boy,"_ said Cupid. " _Because we still have a Temple to protect. Get in there!"_

 _"_ _Cupid, you shouldn't ever say that phrase,"_ Viridi said, her tone flat. " _Ever. Especially with so much . . . enthusiasm."_

 _"_ _Viridi, I didn't know your mind was quite so . . . sexually attuned."_

 _"_ _Yeah, thanks to perverts like_ YOU _spoiling what little innocence I had . . ."_

 _"_ _Well, isn't this a surprising little development!"_ Cupid sounded absolutely delighted. " _Tell me, oh spirited Goddess of Nature, how much experimenting have you done?"_

" _No!_ " shouted Marsh.

"Viridi, don't answer that question," Pit wailed. "Please. I'm begging you."

"I don't want my perception of you to be marred even more than it already is," Marsh said. "Stop. Just . . . _no_."

 _"_ _Th-third wave done_!" Viridi stuttered as the second Belunka teetered and fell, and Pit couldn't imagine what sort of eyes the two were making up there in Skyworld. _Oh no, is Cupid really flirting with her?_ Pit worried inwardly. _"Fourth wave ahead!"_

 _"_ _Let's go deeper!"_ rallied Cupid. " _Almost to the Temple!"_

 _"_ _Now everything sounds like a sexual joke,"_ complained Viridi. " _Damn it, Cupid . . ."_

Cupid crowed. " _Viridi, you're older than you first appear!"_

" _A-and?"_

" _So you must have an answer to my question_ ," Cupid said demurely. " _Ignore the boys for a second. How much have you . . . dallied?"_

"Marsh!" Pit yelled, plunging through each new Underworlder with an energy that had nothing to with his enthusiasm from earlier. "I have a confession to make! That doughnut I gave you two weeks ago—I had dropped it on the ground!"

"Ew—what?" Marsh said. He was clearly revolted. "Why would you tell me that now?"

"Because— _I'm not ready for what's to come,"_ Pit cried, blasting through a Gloomerang in dismay. " _I'm not ready for this!"_

" _Shut up, Pit-for-brains, I won't talk about it any more if it means it's distracting you,_ " muttered Viridi, watching as a Gloomerang almostcut through the lighter angel's neck. " _Calm down. Seriously."_

" _On the contrary, Viridi, the entire conversation seems to be putting the boy on edge,"_ Cupid said. " _He looks like he's fighting for dear life down there."_

" _Please,"_ Pit cried, ducking a Shrip and slashing his way to a group of Wave Anglers. " _Stop."_

 _"Now's a good time than any other_ ," cajoled Cupid. " _You see, Pit, when two people love each other ._. . "

"Palutena told me she would explain to me how this works!" Pit cried. "I don't want to hear this right now- least of all from _Cupid!"_

There was a moment of silence between the crew.

"That hurts, Pit," said Cupid, his voice laced with fake distress. "Really. It does."

"Oh suck it, Cupid," said Marsh in between shots.

"I think I _will,_ thank you very much," said Cupid arrogantly. "With Dio. Tonight."

"NO," shouted Marsh.

" _WHY,"_ Pit wailed. " _WHY, CUPID, WHY-?!"_

"NO," Viridi reprimanded, and Marsh felt himself careen to the side as Viridi punched the god on the shoulder. "BAD. BAD CUPID."

Pit was embarrassed, and he didn't trust himself to say anything more that might get Cupid to elaborate. The God, however, seemed to be having the time of his life, cackling and ducking Viridi's assaults on his immediate person. Meanwhile, creature after creature filed towards the two, and the two regained their focus on the task at hand. It was the most intense air battle that Pit could remember fighting, but the closer he and Marsh got to the Temple Base, the enemies weren't so bad. He focused on the various Komaytos, Brawny Claws and Gloomerangs flying around him, hoping that the conversation between Marsh, Cupid and Viridi would fade away soon.

" _Ah! What was all that for?_ " Cupid cried in faux dismay as a particularly hard hit landed.

" _You know what for,_ " Viridi said, sounding like she had hit him again. " _Implying you were going to-you know! -with your cook!_!"

" _What, you don't believe me?"_ Said Cupid slyly.

" _I don't,_ " Viridi replied. " _I assumed Dionysus-Dio-whatever- and Phosphora had a thing for each other. He wants to move to Hanging Gardens."_

" _Huh? No. Don't be ridiculous_." Cupid tittered. " _Whatever gave you that idea?'_

"Let's just focus on the battle," Marsh said. Obviously, he knew something that Pit did not.

" _Dionysus, duh,_ " said Viridi. " _He asked me himself."_

And for the second time that day, Cupid was rendered speechless.

Even Pit could tell something was wrong. "Cupid ... ?"

" _Never mind that now_ ," said Cupid briskly. Pit wondered what in the world had just happened, and why Cupid seemed to care so much about what his cook did and moved to. _I mean, sure; I guess I would be mad too if someone I knew well was planning on moving without letting me know. But this feels different._ Pit contemplated. _Does Cupid have ... feelings for Dio?_

 _But that can't be right,_ Pit thought. _Cupid said that he didn't feel the effects of "love" since he was a boy on earth, with his mom. Unless . . . he'd just now starting to have feelings for Dio?_

 _"_ Um, Cupid?" Began Pit. "Are you and Dio-?"

" _Marsh? Behind you_!" Viridi interrupted, and the group was back on track-for the most part. " _One Fort Oink, ugly as always_!"

"Not as ugly as Cragalanche," said Marsh.

" _Cragalanche would take a offense to that_ ," replied Viridi. " _You know, if he were here_."

"And could talk!"

" _It's not his fault he's the strong, silent type,"_ Viridi said. " _Besides, there are other ways to communicate! Body language, facial expressions . . ."_

 _"_ All of which happen to be _impossible_ for the thing to do, since he's a _rock!"_ Marsh continued.

" _My Forces of Nature come in all shapes and sizes! You're not allowed to discriminate against Cragalanche just because he's limited in one way or another. He has a heart of gold, and that's all that counts!"_

The massive floating structure of a monster launched its attack. The Fort, though heavily fortified with Underworld monsters, was large and slow and ultimately simple enough to take down. It exploded with a satisfying sound, and before the boys knew it, Air Battle was over.

"How many rounds was that, Viridi?" Asked Pit. "Eight? Nine?"

" _Six, actually_ , _proving once again that you're actually a worse counter than I'd originally thought,_ " said Viridi, and he wondered if she was still feeling the tension. Judging from the silence that Cupid was imposing on them, it was still there.

"Not nice, Viridi," Pit said, rolling his shoulders. Underneath his breath, he said, "Besides, it's not like _you_ were the one down there fighting wave after wave of enemies . . ."

" _Crafty, Pit, but not crafty enough,_ " Viridi said, her voice dangerous. " _I can still hear you, no matter how low you try to make your voice to be!"_

Marsh landed beside him. His descent was rocky but decent. As if a reply to an unsaid question, Marsh shrugged his shoulders.

Pit looked around, waiting for a go ahead from Cupid, or Viridi at least. The Underworld Army on the ground hadn't been alerted to their presence yet-but it couldn't be too long now . . .

At last, Viridi spoke up, and she sounded concerned. " _Cupid, we should, um. Really continue the mission-_ "

" _I know, I know, I know,_ " Cupid said in a rush, much like a teenager tired of being told what to do. " _Let's just-get this over with, okay?"_

" _Okay_ ," said Viridi.

"Got it," Pit and Marsh said simultaneously.

" _Yeah, and Marsh_?" Cupid said like an afterthought. Several Shenums had noticed them and began to crawl towards the two. A Paramush bobbed within their ranks - the first wave.

"Yeah?"

" _Do me a favor and kill as many Underworld monsters as you can, alright?"_ He exhaled. " _I'll see if I can get my anger out through you."_

* * *

Five minutes into the land battle the angels found themselves in a loosing battle.

"Well isn't this just ... fantastic," muttered Marsh, trying to catch his breath.

 _"You HAVE to get inside!"_ cried out Viridi, her voice beyond tense, and Pit could see why. Though it was far from where they were at the moment, the entrance to Palutena's Temple had to hold _someone_ in it, and finding out who was sending them wave after wave of monsters could just be what they needed to end this unrelenting battle.

But-they were surrounded!

"Eep!" Cried out Pit, his back hitting something as he moved to avoid a Shildeen moving towards him.

Marsh faced him, and Pit let out a huge breath. They could fight the monsters better now- but for how long?

" _Come on, there's not that many waves,"_ said Cupid.

"You don't ... understand," panted Pit, trying to dash around the monster before him. His efforts crumbled before he could even make a proper attempt, however; the Shildeen's shield absorbing his attack completely. "These monsters ... they're smart. Fighting one Shildeen is like fighting ten Guttlers at once."

" _Just-hold on!"_ Viridi said. " _I'm going to make a connection to Phosphora-see if she can come and help! Maybe she'll be able to even out the odds!"_

 _"_ Good ... idea," gasped Marsh, defeating a Shenum with a sure strike.

"We'll be here!" Pit told her.

Pit felt the Goddess of Nature disconnect. "I hope she's back soon," Pit lamented, backing up as another Shildeen went against him.

" _Me too, because you guys aren't looking like you're going to hold up for much longer,_ " Cupid said. " _You two are going to have to make a run for it. Go for the Temple's doors! Maybe you can beat whoever is commanding all of these forces before it's too late!"_

Marsh rushed in first, Pit hot on his heels. They made for the Temple doors in an unorganized flourish, thankful at least that it was wide open and not shut by the enemy that was surely deep within.

The boys stopped to catch their breath. They seemed to be out of dodge of any immediate danger, but that could be for too long.

"I-I have no clue," said Pit, stopping to catch his breath. Even as the words tumbled out of his mouth, however, one small, nagging thought tugged at the corner of his mind, and he forced himself to remember the events that had occurred right up to his "accident".

 _Palutena had said we were going down to the Overworld,_ Pit recalled, _to defeat a horde of Underworlders that had attacked a That First Town. Who could have had the power to bring the Armies to the Skyworld?_ Pit wondered. That first attack felt like ages ago, even though it couldn't have been more than two weeks. It wasn't Medusa, that was for sure; she would have revealed herself as the perpetrator of all of these events a long time ago. No, this was someone who didn't mind waiting in the shadows; someone who was patient and didn't mind using distractions to further their own gain-

 _"_ Pit, you alright?" Said Marsh, coming to a stop next to him. Pit motioned for him to go on, pursing his lips as he struggled to connect the pieces.

What was it that Palutena had told him, just that morning?

 _"_ _They came to me in a dream,"said the goddess, "except, it wasn't a dream at all. It was a projection, and I saw Pollux in all his pent-up anger. He blamed me . . . for his brother's death. And I accepted that."_

 _"_ _When was this?"_

 _"_ _Not two weeks ago," said Palutena ruefully. "I should've told you . . ."_

 _Just two weeks ago!_ thought Pit, becoming nervous. _That_ can't _be a coincidence!_

"Marsh!" Pit said, skidding to a halt. Marsh stopped beside him too.

"What is it?"

" _Everything alright_?" Cupid asked in worry.

"No, it's not!" Pit trembled, his insides confirming all that he needed to know. "This is probably a trap! I know who's in there!"

" _In Palutena's Temple? Then who_?" Cupid wanted to know.

At that moment everything began to happen at once. Marsh, a few paces ahead of him, got snatched up by a Sinestew, undetected from behind a stone pillar. An army of Ganewmedes skittered from the Temple's entrance, an Armin in their midst.

"This is Pollux-!"

But Pit received no reply. Realizing he was going to be just as screwed as his brother in a moment if he didn't think of anything quick, he tried to think of a way out of this. But even _if_ he avoided the other Sinestrew that was _bound_ to be there somewhere, there was no _way_ he'd be able to free Marsh with the little health that he had on him. _24% . . . who can live off of that?_ Pit said inwardly, and he despaired when the new wave of monsters reared into view.

 _I don't have enough health for this!_ Pit thought frantically. _We need Phosphora already!_ Pit said, backing up from the Ganymede army. _Come on, Viridi!_

Before Pit knew it, a bright flash of white-blue filled the area, and he stumbled to the ground. He was distantly aware of Cupid and Marsh's voices demanding his attention, but his connection with reality was slipping fast. Heart pounding in his chest, Pit quickly felt what it was like to have all your senses ripped from your possession . . .

It definitely wouldn't be the first time that Pit would end up being used as Pollux's little plaything . . .

* * *

The ground was cold, dank and made of stone—and the first thing that Pit noticed as he regained his senses.

"What the—" He was on the ground, his knees and elbows scraped and his body bruised from some sort of impact. He knew he must have blacked out while being in Palutena's Temple, but where was he now? The place was closed in and dark, pierced only by the torches along the walls. As a matter of fact, it looked a lot like—

 _The Underworld!_ Pit remembered. It was the same cavern that he'd been in before defeating Medusa for the third time. _Except, I'm not defeating Medusa now, am I?_ Pit looked around wildly. _This should be one Pollux's illusions—right?_

Pit licked his lips, coming to stand. He could barely see a thing where he was at, and the whole situation was making him nervous. It was like he was in a whole different area, the noise of battle nonexistent.

 _I just hope Marsh is alright,_ Pit thought, _and that Cupid doesn't get him killed._

Heartbeat still at record speeds, he came to the understanding that he was completely alone—at least until he could find Pollux and get out of this illusion. _I wonder if he's watching me right this second,_ Pit thought grimly, _seeing how I should react._ Inside he was freaking out, but he knew that he would have to keep up a straight face in order to get what he wanted.

 _I should try and talk to him, too,_ Pit decided, making his way to one of the cavern's walls. He reached up to take the torch from its frame, a light against the darkness. _That way—maybe we won't have to fight._

The light angel was starting to realize that he didn't need to go and tackle every challenge that stood in his way. Not every confrontation needed to be met with Blades and Arrows—things could be negotiated, compromised. Like when he and Palutena had gone into the Lunar Sanctum. They'd declared war on Viridi, without knowing that Arlon held a very dangerous prisoner with his Sanctum. The breach almost cost Palutena her life, and the War that had followed from that ended up being one of the worst in all of human history. _If only we had talked, we wouldn't have felt the need to invade Arlon's Sanctum,_ Pit thought forlornly. _The Chaos Kin wouldn't have escaped, and Palutena wouldn't be so sick . . ._

Pit shook his head. _No point in dwelling about that now!_ Doing that would just get him all sad,and he didn't have Marsh with him to pull him out of the wreck that he'd end up in. No, all he had right then was himself, and in time, Pollux . . .

"What did you bring me here for?" Pit said into the empty space. "What you're doing-moving in and out, attacking the Overworld with these forces. And now this?"

Pit heard a something like a scoff in the darkness. "Everything that you'd expect from Palutena's little _servant."_

Pit took offense to that. He took his Sacred Duty as Palutena's Captain very seriously, thank you very much. But he felt like he needed to go about this a different way.

"You're declaring war with the gods," Pit said. He didn't know where to look, exactly, since Pollux's voice carried everywhere in the cavern's halls. "That's . . . that's dangerous."

"I thrive in dangerous, young angel," the voice replied. "I survive on chaos, on the untenable and the unclear. What you're telling me is all a part of the plan. A plan that's been in place since before you were born."

"What type of plan?" His words sounded familiar. _Is he referring to the Prophecy? But-how could he know about that?_

Pollux gave a harsh laugh. "You think I'm like those other villainous characters you've fought before? I won't break down and tell you what I have in store for you and your precious crew out there. I'm not so bound by arrogance as that."

Pit was wracked with anguish. This was going to be harder than he'd first expected. He didn't think that Pollux was as powerful as all that, to be able to stop time-which meant that Marsh was still out there, getting surrounded and surely getting beat up by that Sinestrew. And with his already low health-there was no way he was going to last long.

But he had to remain calm. Wherever Pollux was located, Pit had absolutely no way of knowing if he was watching him or not. and so, if he was watching him, he couldn't let his opponent see how much he was getting to him.

This evasiveness, this fury of his-it was unsettling. How could Pit hope to win this sparring of words?

What was it that his goddess had said to him, just that morning? The angel closed his eyes. She had spoken with such an urgency that Pit really had no choice but to commit to memory. . .

 _"_ _When you finally confront Pollux, make sure you don't tell him the truth."_

 _"Th-the truth about what?"_

 _Palutena didn't reply right away. The truth seemed to be lodged in her somehow, unable to break the horrible silence around them. . ._

 _"That it was you who killed Medusa," she said. "Because . . . because if they're going to blame anyone for their caretaker's death, then it should be me, not you._ _"_

Lie. That's what Palutena wanted him to do, really. Pit had to lie his heart out in order to get Pollux to comply with him, so that he could figure out if the twin had the what he truly needed or not.

So Pit forced himself to conjure up an image of his matron goddess, the sickest that she'd ever been, eyes closed so that she looked nearly dead, and held it there. Pollux had to believe that Palutena was dead for this to work—and had to believe that Pit hated her, too.

"No, I don't think that about you." Pit said at last. "The gods are the real villains, I see that now."

"Oh? Why the sudden change of heart? And you say that when you were working beside them just now."

"...Because she's dead."

"No, she's not," came the reply almost at once.

"Yes, she is," Pit insisted, his chest restricting. The angel waved the torch around, still unable to catch sight of the god himself-but he sounded intrigued, which was something.

"She's not!" said Pollux, his voice rising, and Pit cringed, shivering just imagining the amount of outrage that could match his voice.

"How do you know?" Pit gulped, his stomach clenching.

Pollux seemed to compose himself, if only just a bit. "Why else would you be here? - If not to protect your goddess' home."

Pit grew warm with embarrassment, not prepared to think this far. "Phosphora," he said, his voice quiet. "Phosphora just sent us word that-that she wanted the temple for herself. She just died-yesterday, you know. It was probably because of your forces here, ripping through everything."

Plausible enough, Pit hoped. He didn't get the chance to find out, however, if Pollux believed him or not, because the words came tumbling out of his mouth, a story created for trust and not for ill intent.

Which made it okay, right?

"She's dead, like you wanted, and—she told me everything. She told me that—that she made a mistake with you and your brother. She regrets everything that she did in ruining your life and—and knows that even if she had an eternity left to live, she wouldn't have enough time in trying to repay you back. She didn't even try to cover up anything," he said, "because she knew that she was dying and she didn't want to let anything in the past to be left unsaid. She wanted my image of her to be based on truth, and not on a-a lie."

Rich, magnificent lies kept tumbling from his lips, one after the other, lining up for defense like little toy soldiers. Pit just hoped that they were stronger than he perceived them to be, because his head was bowed with something like shame.

"I can't—imagine how I've lived all these years serving her when she's kept so much about her past hidden from me." Pit forced himself to look up ruefully. "She was terrible to you and your brother."

Pollux stepped out of the shadows. His face was twisted into something indiscernible, and even then Pit couldn't tell if the man actually believed him or not. He opened his mouth to speak, and it wasn't anything that Pit expected at all—a voice that was broken, shattered by the harsh reality of too many years alone.

"She was terrible," Pollux said softly, and Pit saw that his eyes had a lost look to them, mismatched and hard to look at though they were. _He's not all that intimidating,_ Pit thought, expecting some yelling, abrasive god who would have lashed out at first sight. Though he _was_ tall—taller than Dio, though maybe slightly shorter than Arlon—he didn't act or look like a god would, especially during a situation like that. _It's like . . . it's like he just wants to talk._

Still, though. He had to sell it. "Now though—now I find myself at a crossroads." Pit smiled sheepishly, and Pollux looked back at him, utterly confused. _This wasn't what he was expecting,_ Pit thought eagerly. _Well, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting, either._ He had him on a hook, and by now there was no doubt in the young god's mind that Pit could be lying. "I've lived in trust of the gods my whole life and I find myself attached to them. I can't help it. I can't fly without their Power, and where would I live? Down on the Overworld?"

Pollux gave a scoff, crossing his arms. He seems to like scoffing, Pit thought idly. "Better than roughing it in the Underworld."

Pit decided not to comment at that. "And—and so, the only way I can have any sort of power is if I—is if I obtain the Spirits of Peace."

Which sort of made sense. He didn't know _exactly_ what the Spirits were capable of—but if Palutena was correct, they were capable of some immense power. And if this was where Pollux was actually hiding—in the Underworld, at Medusa's old Temple—then it was possible that he knew where they were located, as well.

"To serve the gods?" said Pollux, regarding him dully.

Pit smiled, as if they shared some sort of secret. "I know. But it's complicated for me. I belong to those Spirits. I was destined for them since my birth. No one else can control them but me."

Pollux pursed his lips. "You tell me all this. But don't you think it's all very well put-together, that you come to me wanting the Spirits just as Palutena "dies" by the Mark itself?"

Pit's eyes widened. _The Spirits. The Kin. The Prophecy. The Mark. Peace. Chaos._ It all made sense, and suddenly Pit couldn't breathe.

Pit didn't know whether or not Pollux was putting up an act or not. The god's face was as hard to decipher as a stone wall at times. He didn't look like he believed Pit when he said that Palutena was dead, but that was an easy fix. Pit just had to get him to spill about where the Spirits were, and that he wasn't going to try and help the gods with it.

But then, what else would he use it for?

"My brother has it," Pit blurted, and Pollux squinted at him. "The-the Mark, I mean. You know who he is—he's right outside! Well, not outside _this_ place, but—he's at Palutena's Temple, where your Armies are gathered. And I—I don't want him to die. Not like Lady Palutena."

Pollux didn't reply. _He doesn't believe me!_ Pit thought nervously. "I—I may not care for the gods anymore, but you _have_ to help me save him. He may not be as sick as Palutena was—the Kin only grabbed him for a second—but he's getting there. And Cupid hasn't found a cure yet for the Mark's disease—if I don't get the Spirits, he'll—"

"Alright, alright, alright," said Pollux, looking up to the ceiling, and Pit gave a silent cheer. _I knew my rambling would come in handy someday!_ He thought in jubilation. _Okay, so maybe not, but I'm not as useless as Marsh thinks I am!_

"I believe you," said Pollux testily, and he looked at the angel up and down warily. "But I still don't particularly _like_ you. You used to serve that demon of a Light Goddess, and she let my brother die."

"I—I'll do anything," Pit breathed, his chest constricting. He would, really-but getting the Spirits were for Palutena's wellbeing, not his brother's. "Please, just—just tell me where the Spirits are, and I'll do whatever you ask."

Pollux studied him, and Pit held his breath.

"I'll give it to you," Pollux said at last, and Pit almost fainted right then and there.

"But—you must promise to do something for me first."

"What is it?"

Pollux paced up to him until he was bending down to look at him eye to eye. His nose mere inches away from the angel's, and Pit had to restrain himself from rearing back.

"Find me a goddess. Her name is Moira. She resides in the City of Lost Souls, and judges them before they move on to the Afterlife. She is the one who determines whether or not a soul is to be sentenced to eternal judgement or to eternal paradise. Can you bring her to me?"

Pit grew wary. "How do you want me to find her?"

"The only way someone can get to the City of Lost Souls is by flight. Since Palutena took away my powers, I cannot get there. There will be a spinning whirlwind of spirits floating in the air, and the person who presides over them all is a goddess. All you need to do is ask. Ask her if she can come down so Pollux can talk to her. She should know who I am."

"Oh. Okay then," said Pit. "Are you sure—are you sure she'll listen to me?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it," said Pollux, his uneven eyes insistent. "She's quite fair, and lends an ear to any who is worthy. You are worthy, yes?"

"I guess," said Pit.

Pollux suddenly broke into a smile. "Just tell her that Pollux wants to speak to her. You can do that, yes?"

"I—I guess," Pit replied.

"And if you can get her to see me, here, at this exact spot, then I'll give them to you—the Spirits of Peace."

Pit nodded slowly. "And by 'here', you mean-in the Underworld, right? Not at the Temple."

Pollux didn't reply, he just smiled. "Deal?"

Pollux stuck out his hand. Pit could shake the feeling that he was hiding something from him, a hidden part of the deal that he had overseen. But he couldn't think of anything, and so he reached out. Pollux shook it once, twice; his grin growing all the while. Pit decided he didn't like the way it looked on his face; like something crude and unnatural, and painful to look at. He wasn't sure if he should be agreeing to do anything for this young god who hated gods.

But he needed the Spirits, more than anything in the world. And if he needed to sell his soul to do so, then he would. Anything to prevent Palutena from dying.

"Deal," said Pit, his stomach already sick with regret.

* * *

 **A/N: oh yeah, I think this is the first chapter I've written where Marsh thinks of Pit as his brother. Am I right? I'm a poor rememberer of my own work.**

 **Edit: (I'm going to be changing this for any new readers to come) In chapter 13 Pollux told Palutena that Castor died 'about a month ago'. I meant to write that as** ** _several years ago_** **, shortly after Medusa died the second or third time. So the rage that Pollux had against Palutena would be allowed to build up, Pollux would have more time alone training himself to take over the Underworld army to exact his revenge on Palutena.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	25. Off the Edge

_**"I'm not an intern. I'm a messenger of the gods!"**_ – **Pit (Chapter 24)**

 **A/N: Instead of studying for my finals, I decided to do this. Ah, the things I do for my readers . . . sorry about the long wait, by the way. I was running into some difficulty with certain parts of this chapter. I've been trying to post this story since OCTOBER! Ugh. I won't go into detail much, but there was a lot that I added unintentionally that didn't particularly have to do with the plot but sort of made its way into the story anyway. I'm lucky I had my sister to talk it out with me. It sort of helped me get my thoughts together.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Stop! _Stop!"_

Cupid woke up, his stomach cold with dread. He leaped out of bed, robe in hand, hoping to catch his goddess in time before she said something loud enough for the others to hear.

"I take it back— _please-_ -!"

The God of Love forgot himself. Knowing the way to Palutena's room by heart, he didn't need the light to figure out where she was. Of course, it was _wayyyyyy_ too early for this shit and in his hurry he slammed head first into the door to her room.

"Pollux . . . don't hurt him. . ."

He reeled back in a daze, his nose and head throbbing in pain. He put a cautious hand to his sensitive nose. Thankfully, he didn't pull his hand away with blood on it, though it still hurt like hell. He tried again.

"I take it back . . . I take it back . . ."

It was dark in the room, the curtains closed to the outside room. Cupid knew that if he opened them, the light would shine directly though, so he crossed the room to let in the natural light. Palutena writhed in bed, tossing and turning violently.

"Pit . . . no, my Pit. You don't understand . . . "

Cupid flung the curtains open. A full moon graced him; now he could properly see.

"Pollux, _please-_ you can't kill him-he's-"

He went to her side to shake her awake; like always, her eyes flung open and found his, first in shock, then in confusion.

Every time she looked at him like that, his heart started to sink a little. He knew he wasn't perfect—he knew that she preferred the other one. The _golden_ boy. But what he couldn't understand was why him coming to _save her_ was always such cause for alarm.

"C-Cupid?" Palutena said. Her eyes were still cloudy, seeing something beyond him entirely. "What are you—?"

"It was a dream," he muttered, taking her hand in his. "Just a dream."

"But Pit," she said, looking like she was about to jump out of bed right then and there. "He's in trouble—Pollux has him—"

"It was a dream," Cupid said again. "You haven't seen Pollux in years."

Palutena seemed to take some comfort in his words, at least. She laid her head back, but her eyes kept on darting up and around him, looking for invisible figures to come and haunt her again.

"He was planning on killing him," she said nervously. "He—he was right there in front of me, a knife to his throat. Pollux s-said he was going to kill him, so that I might know how i-it felt-"

Her eyes kept on moving from his face. At that point, Cupid had decided he'd had enough. He placed a steady hand to her chin, forcing her head to stop moving and look him in the eye.

"You're safe here," he said. He swallowed. "So is Pit. You're safe."

Her breath was settling, something that Cupid took as a personal victory.

"I wish I could take it back," muttered Palutena, looking him dead in the eye. Her naked fear stirred something unsettling deep within him as well, and he shivered. "All of it. I would if I could. Can't he see that?"

Cupid moved away from her, placing his hands on the tangled up sheets before him. Before, he had accepted the fact that some outside force was causing these nightmares; had guessed that, due to some personal vendetta, that the nightmares were getting worse. But he had never asked about what enemies Palutena might have that were still alive and powerful enough to transmit dreams. He couldn't think of anyone who could hate someone so much, especially someone like Lady Palutena.

"Palutena," he asked cautiously, not looking her. "Do the nightmares seem to be getting worse, to you?"

"He . . . held him right in front of me." Her voice was small and tremulous, like a child's. "It was as if- It was as if I could touch him, Cupid, if I reached out far enough." Her eyes wandered to the right of him, where she had been looking earlier.

Cupid sighed. "You need to..." He brushed back some of the thin tendrils of red hair that had fallen into his face. "Tena, you need to calm down. You're safe here, at my Palace. Alright?"

"What did I say about you calling me that," Palutena growled, surly. Cupid warmed in embarrassment at the reproach; for some reason, being here next to her, so late in the night, his defenses were down, and he had no words to match her bitterness. He pursed his lips and looked away, trying not to think about how poor for the job he was, taking care of her.

Palutena wasn't done yet, however. "I'm not safe here, anyway," the goddess mumbled. "You, holding me as my prisoner, counting the days and watching me waste away..."

"I'm not," Cupid pleaded, and he couldn't believe that this Palutena and the one he'd grown up with were both the same person. "I wouldn't do that, Palutena; I'm trying to help-"

"I don't believe you," Palutena said. "Because if you were helping, then maybe I wouldn't be awake right now, now would I?" She glared at the covers before her. "Being here hasn't made me better. Being here with _you_ certainly hasn't helped. Is this all going to your plan, I wonder? Wearing me down until I-"

"I'm not pulling any strings now," said Cupid, his voice barely above a whisper. He wished she would look at him. Maybe then he would feel as bad as he did. "You're not just here because I'm - I'm selfish. You're here here because i'm trying to help you."

"Really? That's not what you said when I first came here."

Cupid lowered his head. "I know. Think of these past fews days as me - trying to figure out how to ask for forgiveness, I suppose."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Palutena's voice was more flat than he'd ever heard it. "Do you expect me to believe that you're actually seeking _redemption,_ after all these years?"

Cupid was silent.

"And, really-" Palutena continued, her eyes to the ceiling, "what good would it do you? Apologizing to me. Maybe I deserve this . . . "

"You do _not,"_ Cupid hissed, "deserve _any_ of this."

Palutena looked at him, studying the raw emotion that pinched his features. "And-no god should ever wish this upon another, okay?" Cupid continued. "Not a disease this horrible. Your weakness-it's made you vulnerable, physically, psychologically, and-and this 'Pollux' character has been taking advantage that. But you don't deserve any of this-not even after whatever you might have done in the past. You've told him, Palutena-you've told Pit what you know about the Prophecy. You're free."

The two were silent. Cupid felt as though he would choke on the stillness of the room. He thought about leaving before he began to run his mouth again and say something that he might regret. Then the Light Goddess began to laugh.

Slow, bitter and deep seated, her laughter didn't make him want to smile in on the joke. It was almost manic, actually, the way she hid her face from him, covering her mouth so that she could laugh a sound that almost seemed too broken to be real.

"I killed him," she said."I killed him, Cupid, don't you see?" said Palutena, and by then she was trembling, the smile leftover on her face wane and confused. "It's all my fault-Castor's death. I saw the twins as co-conspirators of Medusa's reign, laughing beside her as she released havoc on the humans with her monsters. I made them share the blame, when really, I had no idea how much of a part they'd played. They were so young, Cupid-barely a year younger than you were at the time; ten, eleven maybe, appearence-wise. They were vulnerable, and susceptible-"

"Zeus held me just as responsible for my actions when I was their age," Cupid said, his voice hard.

"This is different," said Palutena. She looked at him in earnest, her eyes searching. "They were on the wrong side of the war, that's all. They grew up thinking that Medusa was in the right-yet I punished them as if they had any other choice."

Cupid broke contact. "When you say that you killed him-"

"Castor," said Palutena. "His brother, he came to me in a dream, a projection of sorts. He told me that…. When I had left them in the Underworld to fend for themselves, that the Underworlders turned on them. They didn't recognize them as their leaders-they only answered to Medusa. They attacked and they-they took Castor." She shook her head fervently. "It's my fault that he wants revenge. I mean, it was his _brother_. I should have realized-"

"But you didn't," Cupid said, "and what's done is done."

Palutena didn't reply.

"There's no point in dwelling in the past, in my opinion," Cupid said. His eyes wandered to the window, at the waning moon that hung sentient above. "Whether it was your fault or not- there's no point in beating yourself up about it now. First chance I get, though, I'm going to find Pollux and give him a piece of my mind. Because this is just ridiculous."

Cupid thought about leaving then. The silence that Palutena had left behind was enough to suffocate on, and he wasn't sure what else he could say. He hadn't known the Gemini much when he was younger...

"Can you do me a favor?"

Cupid's gaze shot back to hers. He didn't like the way goddess was looking at him. "Yeah."

"Can you take care of him? If I die-"

"No," Cupid said, eyes widening. "Don't say that-"

"If I die," Palutena plowed on, "make sure you tell Pit that he doesn't need to correct all my mistakes for me. He doesn't need to prove that I'm better than I actually am-because I'm not. Once I die-if I do-please, just make sure he pulls through. He needs someone to look after him."

Cupid had never considered the possibility of having a sibling in his life. He didn't think he'd be a good one, really. If she died, he'd figured Pit would go and stay with his actual brother, with someone who really cared for him in ways he couldn't. But he nodded anyway.

Cupid didn't want to see Palutena die. Not really. He put up a front of indifference most of the time, but in reality, Palutena was as much family to him as Marsh was to Pit. And besides . . . they were _gods._ Any death between them would have massive rebounds, whether the people who knew about it _cared_ or not.

The look she gave him shocked him. This early in the morning, Cupid found he had left his defenses up in the next room, and was unprepared for the amount of trust she was showing towards him then. Suddenly he felt a regular angel again—an adolescent still wandering the halls of Palutena's Temple, trying to find his place in this existence.

"Thank you, Cupid," Palutena said, her cerulean blues shining. "Really."

Cupid nodded quietly, already retracting away from her. He drew his hand back, and stood up from the bed. "Get some rest, Palutena. You're going to need it for tomorrow."

Palutena didn't reply, and Cupid didn't really think she needed to. She was probably already sinking back to sleep, and he truly hoped that her dreams would be more peaceful than they were before. Before he could exit the room, however, he paused, and came to face her in full. "I never meant to scare you," he said quietly, "the way I did, in the beginning of your stay. You're safe here, you know…..really. And I'm sorry for the way I am sometimes."

Palutena was silent, and Cupid thought it was just as well. He suddenly wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible.

* * *

"No. It's a bad idea, Pit."

Pit's infamous puppy-dog eyes came into play. It usually worked on whoever he did it to-even on Marsh!-but this time, Marsh was having _none of it._ In fact, the fact that he tried only made his brother angry.

"Stop messing around! This is serious!"

"I know it's serious," Pit said. He sighed. "You should've seen him, Marsh. He -he had this look, like he was going to go back on everything he ever promised me if I didn't do what he wanted me to do."

"Still, this is-this is-" Marsh brushed past him, thinking. He could feel Pit's pleading eyes on his back, but he had to get himself to feel comfortable about this one.

Pit was going on a mission to the Underworld-and he was insisting that he do it alone. Some weird god that Pit had met while passed out on the floor of Palutena's Temple the other day was demanding that he fly to the City of Lost Souls to retrieve someone for him. It could be Pit's only chance to get the Spirits of Peace from him in a non-violent way.

"I don't want to kill him, Marsh," Pit had said. "I just want to make things right. And Palutena says that those Spirits are supposed to be mine. If doing this on my own ensures that, then why shouldn't I?"

But Marsh. Could not. Let Pit go alone. He knew that if he went off on another mission that Viridi hadn't originally intended for him, she'd be royally pissed off. And he KNEW that the Overworld was suffering-that disaster was plaguing its people and that Viridi couldn't do anything alone-but he also knew that he'd go crazy if Pit got hurt while trying to retrieve the goddess for Medusa's old apprentice.

Lips pressed into a hard line, Marsh turned back to his brother. "Listen. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but . . . maybe you should wait. Palutena's sick, she can't ensure your safety like Cupid would. You'd be flying into the Underworld with someone I don't even completely trust, and if anything happens to you, I'd go crazy."

Pit shook his head, going past him. Marsh went livid, jogging to catch up to him to make him understand.

"Where are you going?" he blurted.

"To find Cupid," Pit said, not looking at him though they were walking side-by-side by now.

"Gods, you are stubborn," Marsh said. "Why can't you wait? We can go in a week or so-after we take care of Pyrrhon down on the Overworld, and figure out why there's so much dark magic polluting the earth, and-"

"And what? Marsh, there's so much going on down there! If we go down there, for another week-or two-we might not even fix the problem! And Palutena-" Pit paused, trying to get himself under control. The two stopped, and he watched as the lighter angel struggled to find the right words.

Pit blinked rapidly, unable to look at his brother. "Come on, Marsh-you know this is important to me. The Spirits might be what she needs to . . . you know . . . "

Pit didn't speak after that. Marsh hated how much was hanging on this one mission of his, and he hated how much the growing disease of his matron goddess was tearing him up.

Marsh pursed his lips together and looked up to the ceiling. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Pit-how exactly do you know if-once you finally get the Spirits, how do you know that you can save Palutena?"

Pit didn't answer for a while. Marsh wasn't sure if he had crossed a line by doubting him-but he knew that he'd have to broach the question eventually. Just to ensure that Pit knew what he was doing-just to make sure that Pit realized what the consequences would be if he didn't get to his goddess in time.

"It only makes sense," the angel replied softly. "The Prophecy referred to someone called the Winged One being the one who will be able to fully restore the Overworld and Skyworld. We all assumed that that was me, but . . . what about the other part of the Prophecy? The part that said that that no light will be able to drive off the Chaos, that only the Spirits would be able to drive it off for good."

Marsh didn't know what to say. He hadn't heard this part of the Prophecy before, and really, it sort of made sense.

"So, just help me out here, okay?" Pit looked up, his blue-eyed expression sheepish and pleading. "I need to get this done."

Marsh swallowed. "Okay, then-what if I still need help controlling this dragon down on the Overworld? We almost _died_ the last time, remember?"

"Just-"

Pit stopped. The two angels turned around to glance at the opposite end of the hallway, where they knew that Cupid's Alchemy Room was located.

Someone was yelling-and that someone was Cupid.

Marsh and Pit dashed to the other end of the hallway. The door was open, so they peeked their heads in to see who, precisely, could be the receiver of such rage.

Upon seeing who it was, however, they just as suddenly wished that they hadn't.

Cupid's Palace, for all of its unconventionality, still had a sort of calming, slightly complacent aura about it that was rarely disrupted by the people who resided there. Marsh figured that the Palace's location had something to do with it-hovering above the clouds and nestled within a beach-like environment that radiated serenity, it was far apart from the chaos of the Overworld or any other Temples occupied by the gods. Its occupants rarely fought there, and if they did, they definitely didn't raise their voices-or yell- or throw things-

" _You imbecile,"_ Cupid growled, his face twisted and his eyes bright. Something flew past Marsh's vision, something dark and breakable, shattering into a million pieces on the corner wall across from him. " _You worthless excuse for a god!"_

"Cupid!" Pit said, surging forward. "Cupid, what-?"

Marsh pulled him back to the doorway as another bottle of liquid flew from Cupid's grasp. Pit winced visibly, and Marsh couldn't believe Cupid was angry enough to nearly cause the other angel harm.

" _Get out."_ Cupid looked as if he were on the brink of insanity, his eyes wild. Marsh had thought he'd seen madness-but nothing like this. " _Get out!"_

"Why are you shouting?" Marsh demanded. His eyes locked on the figure on the other side of the room. "What happened?"

"He-he-!" Cupid pointed accusatively, his arm shaking. "He betrayed me! _Me!_ The one who gave him _immortality!_ The one who gave him a _home-!"_

"It's my fault, I know it's all my fault," a faint voice said. Marsh looked back to the corner where Cupid was throwing throwing things at. Underneath the table stooped the God of Wine, holding his arms over his head.

Dio caught Marsh's gaze. "I'm sorry to bring you into this, but maybe it would be a good idea to leave, yes?"

"No!"

"You don't understand," Cupid said. "None of you-you don't get it."

"Then help us to understand!" said Marsh.

"And stop throwing things at Dio's head!" Pit said, pointing to the god in the corner. "You're not doing anything to diffuse the situation, Cupid!"

Cupid let out a terse sigh. "That's not the _point!"_

"Then you need to tell us what happened!" Marsh demanded.

" _He betrayed me!"_ He made an attempt to stomp over to Dio in the corner again, but Pit blocked his way. Marsh stayed on his guard. At this point, Marsh thought, Cupid looked hell bent enough to knock Pit to the ground in order to get to where Dio was.

Cupid looked at Pit straight in the eye, his cheeks and forehead a blotchy red. "He was going to leave and he wasn't even going to tell me." He was shaking.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Cupid," Dio said, his voice low. He was on his knees now, but he didn't get up completely. "I just-"

"You just-what?" Cupid said, his gaze on him. "You didn't think? Well, that much is obvious. You were just going to leave, like you don't _owe me-_ you were just going to pretend that I -that I didn't _turn you into a god, Dio-"_

"Hold on!" Pit tried, throwing two hands out. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?" Cupid groused. "I created him. I gave him a place to live. And now- and now he wants to _move out?_ That's not how being a god works. You can't just _decide_ that all of a sudden."

"Dio can do whatever the hell he pleases," Marsh stated. "You don't _own him,_ Cupid."

"Y-yeah, don't be ridiculous," said Pit. "If Dio wants to leave, then he can leave." He glanced at Dio. "Right?"

Dio swallowed, not looking at either of them. He was standing now, wringing his hands together. "You don't understand. I'm not just living on my own. I don't have enough power for that. I'm . . . I'm living with Viridi, with Marsh and Arlon and Phosphora." He gave Marsh a sheepish grin. "Surprise . . ."

"Shut up," Cupid snapped, his eyes finding Dio once more. "You silly fool. _Shut up_!"

Marsh, his focus on Dio, didn't have time to react by the time everything plunged into motion. Cupid grabbed a stand of test tubes and flung, its momentum large enough to do considerable damage if the stand had hit its mark. Pit anticipated Cupid's target, however, and what happened next probably wouldn't have occurred if Pit wasn't _so_ ridiculously self-sacrificing.

The next thing Marsh knew, Pit was on the ground, clutching at his head and wincing. He rushed over to him at once, and saw blood.

After that, Marsh couldn't really remember what happened. It wasn't until afterwards that he realized his actions could possibly would have consequences for him in the future. It was probably one of those unwritten rules regarding the divine world that everyone automatically abided by- like with Dio choosing to live anywhere else but Charmed Islands.

Suffice to say, one did not simply hit a god.

Except that's exactly what Marsh did.

He was aware of Pit yelling at him during the first few throws, but his voice was muted. In fact, everything around him was sort of tuned out; insignificant compared to the red that cloaked everything around him. All he could think about was how no one, _no one_ threw things at his brother and not pay the consequences.

"Marsh! Marsh, you have to stop-"

 _No,_ Marsh wanted to growl back. He had needed an excuse to punch this god in the face, anyway-

"Marsh, let off! Marsh!"

"What's going on in-Pit?"

Marsh felt himself being tugged back by two different people. Four hands and lots of yelling later, the angel finally tumbled backwards, landing in the lap of one Lightning Goddess who looked more bewildered than anything else.

Marsh's heart was thumping, and he struggled to regain his breath. A faint sort of pain prickled his knuckles. Dully, he looked down to see why they throbbed so much. There was blood around the broken skin of his fingers, though he didn't think all of it was his.

A shadow loomed over the three of them sprawled out on the floor. And when Marsh looked up, all he could see was the blood all over Cupid's narrow face.

"Leave," he said shortly, his fists clenched. His face was stark with rage, and his nose misshapen and looking utterly grotesque.

His heart still pumping, and his brain a little sluggish from the adrenaline draining out of his system so quickly, he did as he was told. Vaguely he felt Pit's hand on his shoulder, propelling him out the Palace's Alchemy Room. Phosphora wasn't far behind, asking Dio what in the world had happened between them. There wasn't much time to go into detail, though. Pit was dedicated to getting them out of that room as soon as he possibly could, and for once, Marsh followed quietly close behind. It was time to get out of Cupid's Palace before any permanent damage was done to either party in the aftermath. It wasn't long before he, Pit, Phosphora and Dio had made it to Hanging Gardens again, Pit's plan to get out to the City of Lost Souls as soon as possible in shambles.

* * *

"What in the Overworld…..?" said Viridi, surrounded by her Forces of Nature. She seemed to be busy, comparing charts and assessing damages throughout the Overworld with a Cobbler, but as soon as Pit, Marsh, Phosphora and Dio landed in her Entrance hall, her attention was quickly diverted.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking towards Phosphora for an explanation. "You didn't even call ahead."

"There was a fight," Phosphora said, glancing at Pit and Marsh. "We had to make it out of there as soon as we could."

Viridi crossed her arms as Pit found him surrounded by Viridi's army. "What do you mean, you had to make it out of there? Did Cupid throw you out?"

"You could say that," said Dio, looking defeated.

Viridi caught on a half second after the Clobbler who was examining Pit's head injury decided to touch the spot where the cut began. Pit winced, swatting the minion away, and Viridi's eyes widened.

"I'm going to kill him," she said.

"it wasn't his fault," Pit said quickly.

"Like hell it is," said Viridi, her eyes making quick assessment of Pit before sliding over to the other angel in the room. "Holy Zeus-Marsh, is that _blood on your hands?"_

Phosphora and Pit both winced at Marsh's fingers as if noticing for the first time just _how_ much damage the angel had caused. "It's not his."

Viridi pursed her lips at the four in the room. Marsh hadn't even opened his mouth to speak yet, and she had a sneaking feeling that part of this situation was Dio's fault. A Nutski came from the intersecting hallway to assess the damages, and Viridi blocked its descent. "Shoo, shoo."

The Nutski tittered back at her plaintively.

"No, it's fine," she reassured the creature. "I'll take care of this."

"Viridi, we're fine," said Pit. Viridi began to shove he and Marsh into the other room. Pit had been at Viridi's Gardens enough times to know that she was pushing them into the Medical Wing. "It's not even that bad-I'm sure a Jitterthug or a Cobbler or two will be able to take care of us-"

"Says you. You were bleeding all over my floor," Viridi muttered, still steering them from behind. "Don't you know how long that's going to take to get out?"

"Oh, please. It'll take, like, five minutes for a Jitterthug to get out," called out Phosphora from behind them."

"Whatever," Viridi snapped. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Not at the moment. I _was_ at Cupid's Palace to see if he had any extra healing potions, or at least the materials to make them, but . . ."

"But Marsh punched him before you could," Viridi finished. She turned to catch Phosphora's eye. "Isn't that right?"

The duo behind Marsh, Viridi and him were silent. But Viridi wasn't done just yet. She faced forward again, pushing Marsh and Pit again. "Just go, Phosphora. Take Dio. Try not to mess anything up while you're gone."

Pit looked back. Phosphora and Dio paused where they had been in the hallway, cut off from following the two in their trek to the Medical Wing. Phosphora looked shocked, and Dio looked pretty dejected.

He _really_ wished Viridi hadn't been so snappy sometimes.

They finally reached the room. Viridi waved them over to the medical cots, while she opened various cabinets to find what she was looking for.

"That damn Cupid," Viridi murmured, coming to Pit first. She held a jar of some green-yellow ointment in one hand, and a towel in the other. "What did he throw at you?"

"Something made of glass," said Pit, wincing a little as Viridi tried to wash away the blood.

"I'm going to kill him," she said again.

"It wasn't his fault," said Marsh at last. "Not really."

Marsh sounded just about as depressed as Dio had earlier. "Then whose was it?" Viridi prodded, giving him a scrutinizing look. "And why did you feel the need to punch him in the face?"

"Because he attacked Pit!" Marsh exclaimed.

"It was an accident!" Pit said. "You _know_ he was aiming for Dio-!"

"Time out. Pit, you need to calm down. I need you to sit still so that I can wrap your head." Viridi looked at the two angels. "Marsh, wrap your hand in this," said Viridi, giving him one of the towels she had brought with her when administering to Pit. Marsh took it and pressed in onto his hands. "Now. Explain to me what happened."

Marsh looked away. "Pit and I were talking when we heard yelling in the hallway. It was Cupid. He was mad about Dio moving away . . . or something. He kept on repeating that Dio owes him, and that he wasn't allowed to live on his own. Then he threw something at Dio, but Pit got in the way. That's when I - you know."

Viridi didn't say anything for a time. "So the blood on your hands, it's his?"

"Yeah."

Viridi, now done with wrapping up Pit's head, busied herself with cleaning up. She wasn't often the type of person to avoid uncomfortable topics, so Pit knew something was up.

Marsh wasn't one to be left in the dark, however. "Why is Dio leaving such a big deal?" he asked, almost annoyed. "Once you're a god, can't you basically do whatever you want?"

"It's not all that simple," said Viridi, hesitant. "Becoming a god . . . it's sort of a big deal. From what I know, there are two ways a god comes into existence- they are made by other gods, or they are spawned from the earth." Viridi took on a more smug tone. " _I_ was grown."

"What the Underworld do you mean by _that?"_ blurted Marsh.

Suddenly Viridi was very red. "You know-it's very hard to explain, alright?" she defended. "In any case, _most_ gods don't have origins like mine. They're created by other gods-and the only way gods can create other gods is if they use humans as their template first."

She moved over to Marsh at last, some more cloth in her hand, and started to wipe away some more of the blood there that covered his fingers. "From what I know, that's how Dio was created. Cupid specifically sought him out, and turned him into a god."

"That doesn't mean that Dio has to work there his entire life, though," said Pit, swinging his feet around on the cot that he sat in. He looked up to Viridi and Marsh in turn. "Right?"

"It's considered very offensive," Viridi said, frowning a bit. "that Dio would consider leaving Cupid's house without his permission."

"But it's more than that," said Marsh, stopping her before she could say anything more. "It's because Dio doesn't love Cupid anymore, and he's choosing Phosphora over him."

Viridi paused. Pit wasn't sure, but he felt like Viridi often got uncomfortable when it came to talking about people in relationships.

"Yeah," Viridi said. She moved away from them and returned with some alcohol, padding some on a napkin without any sort of warning to Marsh. He hissed when it touched his skin, and he shot Viridi a look.

Viridi stuck out her tongue. "What do you expect? Consider this only the beginning of what's to come."

"What do you mean by that?" Marsh said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice, though Viridi was rubbing the alcohol into his hand _really_ hard.

"I mean, by striking Cupid, you basically committed an act of war." Viridi turned away to get some more cloth for his hand, and Pit saw Marsh's face relax visibly. "There's no . . . old council anymore, and the gods are a lot more scattered and a lot more defenseless than they used to be, but . . . every god knows what an act of war looks like. From what it sounds like, Cupid is no longer on our side. He has every right to attack us."

"But-what about Lady Palutena?" Pit exclaimed.

Viridi pursed her lips. She was finally done with wrapping Marsh's wounds, but didn't the bandage look a whole lot tighter than it was supposed to be? "I don't know," Viridi said. "I guess we'll just wait and see."

"But we can't do that," Pit insisted. "What if he does something to Palutena? If we're not over there to check in on her, we'd never know if he's hurting her or not. What if she lets her die-"

"Cupid wouldn't do that," Marsh said, interrupting Pit's nervous tirade. "He may act like he doesn't care about her, but he does. He wouldn't do something against you, Pit." Marsh looked down. "He'll come after me."

"Ugh, don't try to make this all about you." Viridi waved him off. "All I know is that Cupid is an unpredictable, manipulative bastard, and he might do anything to let off steam. And _you,"_ Viridi said, pointing an accusatory finger at her Captain, "Don't think you're getting off scotch free."

"What did I do?"

"You probably _started a war_ , dipshit! You need to learn some control!"

"This has nothing to do with _me!"_

"Oh, that's not what you were saying earlier-!"

Pit tuned the two of them out. It was beginning to look like he was going to be staying at Viridi's place for an extended period time now. Palutena's Temple was still unsafe, and Cupid's Palace was out of bounds. How in the world was he going to get to the City of Lost Souls now? Viridi will be trying to lessen all of the chaos going on down on the Overworld, sending off Marsh and Phosphora to do her work. She'd never help him out.

But maybe Phosphora could . . . ?

Pit leapt out of his cot and darted from the room.

"Pit?" Viridi said, interrupting Marsh in whatever he was about to say.

"Sorry, Viridi!" Pit called over his shoulder. He had no choice but to explain later. He needed to catch Phosphora before Viridi sent her to the Overworld. He dashed down hallway after hallway, trying to focus. _Phosphora!_ he yelled internally. _If you're in my head, tell me if you're still in Hanging Gardens!_

A few moments later, there was no reply. Pit had made it to the Entrance Hall by then, and had no clue where to even begin. Viridi's place was so large, and he had only stayed there briefly. _Does Phosphora even live here?_

 _Phosphora's room is upstairs, in the back!_

Pit's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Now _that_ wasn't a voice he was used to hearing inside his head.

 _Dio? Is that you?_

 _Yes!_

 _Alright!_ Pit rallied inside his head. Now he could get where he wanted to faster! But _. . . um, what are you doing inside of my head?_

 _I got bored,_ Dio admitted. _And Phosphora was taking too long inside the shower. She said I could join her, but I passed . . ._

 _Nooooooo. Wayyyy too much information._

 _Perdonáme, señor angel. In any case, I wanted to see what you, señor Marsh and Doña Viridi were all talking about._ He sighed internally. _This whole thing-it's my fault, isn't it?_

Pit didn't really know how to respond to that question. Both Dio and Phosphora were to blame for falling for each other and stirring things up. They both had to share the blame. But was that really what was bad about the entire situation? Maybe it was Cupid's fault, for reacting so badly. Or maybe it was all of the rules that the gods followed and adhered to that was the real issue here. In any case, with so many potential aggressors, it didn't really seem fair to pin the blame on any one person.

 _It's no one's fault,_ Pit told him. _It's a difficult situation, but- everything will turn out alright. You'll see._

 _I hope you're right,_ Dio said. _It's just-knowing Cupid, I have no doubt that he will unleash a lot of damage on the Overworld. He's-he's in a lot of pain, you see. He wants to hurt- but respects the pantheon of gods too much to launch an attack on us directly. He will want to retaliate in some other way. I fear- I fear he will use the humans as a way to get to us._

That statement sent a shiver down Pit's spine. He wished Dio hadn't said all that-really, really wished he hadn't.

 _I have to ask you something,_ Pit said, wondering if he'll live to regret ignoring the potential threat that Cupid posed for the moment. _I know this thing is important to you, but I have to get to the City of Lost Souls, and soon. Can you and Phosphora help me out?_

 _Ehm,_ Dio said awkwardly. _You want us to fly you there?_

 _Can you?_ Pit asked hopefully.

 _I'm not very sure. I've never helped an angel fly before. Cupid . . ._ Dio trailed off. _I'm sorry. I should probably call him Don Cupid, yes? He was born with full capabilities of his wings. There was no need._

Pit found the room that Dio had pointed out to him at last. He was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, looking pensive.

Phosphora's room, as expected, was a mess. Blue and periwinkle covers littered the floor, among other things, like what Pit thought looked like Phosphora's clothes. Pit looked at the pile in worry. The shower was still running in the next room, and the Lightning Goddess could make it out at any moment. Dio sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed underneath his long purple toga. He looked up when Pit entered the room, his violet eyes thoughtful.

Dio leapt off the bed. "To be honest, I don't know if I should help you fly on your own," he said. "I don't know how, and I'm not as powerful as Doña Palutena is. I fear . . . I may not be able to keep you in the sky on my own."

"On your own?" Pit said, not willing to give up now. "Do you - do you think that you could help me fly if you and Phosphora did it together?"

Dio had a nervous look on his face. He opened his mouth to reply when suddenly the shower behind the door shut off. Dio turned to the closed bathroom door in alarm.

"Phosphora?" Dio called.

"Yes?"

"Don't come out unless you are . . ." He looked to Pit. "Decent."

Phosphora sounded annoyed. "Don't be stupid, Dio. You know I left my clothes out there."

Dio looked extremely uncomfortable, even more than Pit did. "Yes, but Señor Pit is here, and he wants to talk to us without being-ehm, scarred for life."

"What? Tell him to go away!"

"It's important!" Pit said. "I need you to help me go to the City of Lost Souls!"

"You need to -what?" Phosphora sighed. "Nevermind. I'm wearing a towel. It's going to have to be enough."

The door opened. Phosphora appeared, her newly-short hair still dripping little droplets into her face. The towel she wore wasn't the most _modest_ thing in the world, as it still showed a large portion of her legs. Pit blushed and looked down, trying not to stare.

Phosphora just went on as if her dressed only in a towel didn't make things extremely awkward for the boy with the mind of a fourteen year old now in her bedroom. "You said you want to go somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah," Pit forced out. "To the City of Lost Souls."

"Why?"

"Lady Palutena's in trouble, and I have to go there to get help. It might depend on her, this person I have to find there, to get me the help I need, and I -" Pit was beyond flustered. Phosphora's lack of clothing wasn't helping. "Look-could you put a robe on, or something?"

Phosphora smirked then. Pit couldn't see this, but he could hear it by her tone that she was toying with him. "Oh, am I distracting you?"

" _Yes!"_ Pit said, his eyes still fixed to the ground.

Pit heard her walk over to him on the bed. Dio made a weak sound of protest. Before long, Phosphora's small, white feet had made it to his field of vision. It took everything he had not to look up at her.

Pit gulped. He would _not_ have whatever innocence he had left be tainted by _her._ "Phosphora . . ."

"Look, hun. You're just gonna have to look at me. Then we can continue our conversation."

Pit surrendered faster than any physical fight he'd been in his entire life. He was red as a tomato when he finally looked up.

Phosphora, still dripping and wet, smiled at him teasingly with those light blue eyes of hers.

Pit told himself to look into her eyes _and nothing but her eyes. If I can lie to Pollux and have him believe me, then I can certainly do this!_ "I was wondering if you and Dio could try to . . . help me fly. To the City of Lost Souls. There's someone there that I need to get."

"And why do you need this 'someone'?"

Pit hesitated. He'd only told Marsh about what had happened at while he'd been passed out during the fight at Palutena's Temple, and he didn't think he should risk another reaction like his a second time.

So he lied.

Again.

"She's going to help me make Lady Palutena better," said Pit, temerity making his voice waver a bit. "Please. I know you haven't made an angel fly before, but . . . I need you and Dio to try. This could be my only chance. And Lady Palutena's running out of time . . ."

Phosphora looked at him, her gaze quiet and measuring. Looking to Dio for a spell, she could see that he was already on board.

"Are you sure?" Phosphora said, her voice a lot gentler than what it had been before.

Pit nodded his head.

Phosphora pursed her lips, considering. "Well, alright. We'll try to help you-the both of us. Because-well, like you said, I'm not even sure we can have you fly on your own. But-"

"You have to try," Pit pleaded. "Please."

Phosphora threw her hands up in defeat. "Alright, I give in. Sheesh. Now can you two please leave the room while I go change?"

"Me too?" said Dio, looking slightly disappointed. "You don't need any help?"

Phosphora tilted her head in thought. "Well . . ."

"NO. STOP." Pit said, darting for the door, hands over his ears. "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THIS!"

"Your innocence is an illusion! Just accept it!" Phosphora called out to him, but he was already gone.

Dio looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

Phosphora gave a huff of a sigh, throwing her hands up. "What? The kid had it coming to him."

"I don't think you should be trying to seduce young boys."

"Seduce young boys? Dio, don't be ridiculous." Phosphora laid a hand on his chest, tugging gently on his robes. "I was only trying to make him uncomfortable. He's so easy to unsettle, y'know?"

"I guess," Dio said, pushing some of the Lightning Goddess' hair back. She had a bit of a flyaway on the back of her head, but it was sort of cute. "Just . . . maybe take it easy, yes? He has been kind of low, lately."

Phosphora frowned at him, but relented nonetheless. "Alright, alright. I get your point. Honestly I'm a little scared about Palutena myself, with everything that's going on." She looked away. "Sheesh, I hope Mistress Viridi doesn't _completely_ flip her shit when she hears that we're helping out Pit instead of being down at the Overworld . . ."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Dio said, beginning to trace a line with his thumb from the back of her neck to the center of her back. "She cares about Doña Palutena too, no?"

"Yeah, but-Dio! Hands off!" She said, jumping back when his hand had found her lower, _lower_ back.

Dio blinked at her in surprise. "But didn't you say I could help-?"

"No! I said you could _leave,"_ Phosphora said forcefully. "We have a mission to do now! We can't get distracted!"

Dio pouted.

"You know your puppy eyes don't work on me!"

Dio pouted harder.

" _Out."_

Phosphora pointed to the door dictatorially, acting a little like Viridi in that moment. Dio slumped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

* * *

The looks of barely suppressed terror on Dio and Phosphora's faces was unsettling Pit a little.

"Um, you guys?" Pit said cautiously. "You-you're alright with this, right?"

Dio and Phosphora looked at each other in turn. "Uh, yeah," Dio said.

"Because, you know, it's not like your death would be on our hands or anything like that," Phosphora said.

Pit looked at them dully. "Gee, thanks. I feel so confident now."

"You should be _fine!"_ Dio said, his voice falsely bright as he shuffled the angel to the edge of the Flying Platform. "The two of us together should be enough to help you fly-right, Phosphora?"

"Uh… yup!" Phosphora said, nodding frantically.

Pit looked out into the open door, trying not to let their obvious fear get to him. _I think there's a reason they aren't the main gods of this story. These two are wusses!_ Dio stopped shoving him, and paused to look at him in concern. _Why does it look like they're staring at me like this is the last time they'll see me?_

Phosphora wrung her hands together. "You equipped your powers already?" she asked.

"Yup," Pit answered.

"And you have the weapon that you want?"

"Uh-huh," Pit replied.

Phosphora nodded, but she didn't look very reassured. She looked to the ceiling. "Dear Zeus, don't let him die. I need this job."

" _What? That's_ what you're worried about?! Viridi _firing_ you?"

"Shh!" Phosphora said, ignoring him. She gestured frantically towards the open door. "Mistress Viridi could be here any moment now! You have to leave _now!"_

Pit could see her logic. They really had no time to lose. He stared out into the blue, cloud-spotted sky, trying to suppress the common sense that was telling him _not_ to jump -

And jumped.

* * *

 **A/N: Dio has an accent that's a mixture between Argentinian and Columbian accent (both which are countries in South America). Which is oddly specific, but . . . there's a reason. I'm making this distinction because I made the very specific assumption earlier in the story that Dio had an accent that was "a mix between Italian and Spanish" (Chapter 17, 'Greater the Gods'), and since Argentinian has a lot of Italian influence in it, I wanted some of his speech in my head to sound like that of an Argentinian. But . . . Argentinian accents sounds like a more . . . strained version of a Portuguese-Brazilian accent. Also, they say "vos" I think, and do things with their words that many other Latin-American/South American countries don't do with their language. Hence, the Columbian distinction-which I found was slower and more easy going, like the way I thought Dio sounded in my head.**

 **If you don't know what any of these distinctions mean, don't worry about it. I really just watched a whole bunch of Youtube videos to help me out.**

 **So, to reiterate, the thing that came without my planning was the fight between Cupid, Dio, Pit and Marsh. That's why I didn't get to any more action with this chapter . . . that would've made it too long!**

 **I realize that I'm putting a lot more provocative humor in these chapters . . .**

 **My next chapter shouldn't take** _ **too**_ **long to update, though I've recently come to grips with the fact that I am a very,** _ **very**_ **slow writer. In any case, thanks for sticking with me all this time. I really do enjoy writing this story.**

 **Oh yeah, and I started another story based on more of the history of the gods in the Kid Icarus universe. The main characters are Medusa and Palutena, and the title is "Gods-In-Training". I hope to update the second chapter soon.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this!**


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